ROUND  THE  CORNER 
IN  GAY  STREET 

By  GRACE  S.  RICHMOND 

AUTHOR  OF 

"  With  Juliet  in  England,"  "The  Indiffer 
ence  of  Juliet,"  etc. 


A.  L.  BURT  COMPANY 
Publishers  New  Tork 


corraiGHT,  1907, 1908,  si 

PEKRY     MASON     COHPAHTT 


COPYRIGHT,    1908,   BY 

DOUBLEDAY,   PAGE    &   COMPAMT 

"CBLISHED,  AUGUST,    IpoS 


ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


FRINTED  IN  THK   UN'ITF.D  STATLS 

AT 
THE  COUNTRY  LIFE  TRESS,  GARDEN  CITY.  II.  T. 


Vs 
x  - 


TO 
MARJORIE,   GUERNSEY  AND   JEAN 


CONTENTS 

BOOK  I.    GAY  STREET 

CBAFTEX  PAGB 

I.  An  Introduction  by  Telephone         .        3 

II.  Gay  Street  Settles  Down           .         .       19 

III.  Peter  Sees  a  Light  ...       34 

IV.  Forrest  Plays  a  Trick       .         .  51 
V.  Without  Gloves        ....      66 

VI.  Weeds  and  Flowers          .         .        .81 

VII.  Jane  Puts  a  Question                               96 

VIII.  Murray  Gives  an  Answer         .        .in 

IX.     Snap  Shots 128 

X.  Hide  and  Seek          ....     143 

XI.  In  the  Garden          ....     157 

BOOK   II.      WORTHINGTON    SQUARE 

I.  Jane  Wears  Pearls            .         .         -165 

II.  Shirley  Has  Grown  Up     .         .         .     183 

III.  Luncheon  for  Twelve       .         .         .     201 

IV.  Pot-hooks 218 

V.     Black  Care 235 

VI.     A  Breakdown 251 

VII.  Christmas  Greens     .         .         .         .271 

VIII.  Peter  Reads  Rhymes        .         .         .288 

IX.     A  Red  Glare 308 

X.  Peter  Prefers  the  Porch    .        .        .    327 
vii 


BOOK  I.    GAY  STREET 


CHAPTER  I 

AN  INTRODUCTION  BY  TELEPHONE 

THE  hour  for  breakfast  at  the  home  of 
Mr.  Harrison  Townsend,  in  Worthington 
Square,  was  supposed  to  be  eight  o'clock.  In 
point  of  fact,  however,  breakfast  was  usually 
served  from  that  hour  on,  until  the  last  laggard 
had  appeared. 

The  head  of  the  house  himself  was  always 
promptly  on  hand  at  eight.  On  the  morning  of 
April  second  he  had,  as  usual,  nearly  finished 
his  breakfast  before  the  door  opened  to  admit  a 
second  member  of  the  family.  Mr.  Townsend 
raised  his  eyes  as  a  tall  and  slender  figure  limped 
slowly  across  the  floor. 

"Morning,  Murray!"  he  said,  and  dropped 
his  eyes  again  to  his  paper. 

"Good  morning,  sir!"  responded  his  son, 
and  glanced  indifferently  over  the  table  as  he 
sat  down.  "Bring  me  grapefruit  and  a  cup  of 
coffee,"  he  said  to  the  maid.  "No,  nothing 
else.  Be  sure  the  grapefruit  is  fixed  as  I  like  it." 

Mr.  Townsend  finished  his  newspaper  and  his 
3 


4  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

coffee  at  the  same  moment,  and  rose  from  the 
table.  Although  five  minutes  had  elapsed  since 
the  elder  of  his  two  sons  came  into  the  room, 
no  conversation  had  passed  between  them.  Mr. 
Townsend's  glance  dropped  upon  the  young  man, 
who,  with  his  look  of  ill  health,  would  have 
appeared  to  a  stranger  to  have  lived  several 
more  than  the  twenty-three  years  which  were 
really  his. 

"You  're  not  feeling  well  this  morning, 
Murray  ?" 

"About  as  usual." 

"  It 's  not  strange  that  you  have  no  strength, 
when  you  take  nothing  substantial  with  your 
morning  meal." 

"How  can  I,  when  I  can't  bear  the  sight  of 
anything  but  fruit  ?" 

"You  don't  get  out  enough." 

"I  suppose  I  don't.  There's  nothing  to  take 
me  out." 

Mr.  Townsend  turned  away.  As  he  passed 
through  the  door,  he  met  his  daughter  Olive, 
and  greeted  her. 

This  very  pretty,  dark-skinned,  dark-eyed 
girl  of  eighteen  evidently  had  been  keeping  late 
hours  on  the  previous  evening.  Her  long  lashes 
drooped  sleepily  over  her  eyes  as  she  nodded 
to  her  brother. 


IN  GAY  STREET  5 

"Grapefruit  any  good  ?"  she  asked. 

"Fair,  if  it  wasn't  sweetened  like  a  bonbon." 

"I  like  mine  sweet.  Annie,  tell  Gretchen 
JO  put  half  a  dozen  maraschino  cherries  in  my 
grapefruit  and  some  crushed  ice." 

"You  must  like  the  mess  that  will  be,"  Murray 
observed. 

"  I  do  —  very  much,"  replied  his  sister,  decidedly. 

The  two  continued  their  breakfast  in  silence, 
which  was  presently  interrupted  by  the  advent 
of  a  fourth  member  of  the  family.  Forrest 
Townsend,  flinging  into  the  room  with  a  rush, 
dressed  in  riding  clothes,  and  casting  hat  and 
crop  upon  a  chair  as  he  passed  it,  offered  a 
picturesque  contrast  to  the  two  dark-eyed  young 
persons.  Of  a  little  more  than  medium  height, 
strongly  built,  fair-haired  and  blue-eyed,  he 
looked  the  young  athlete  that  he  was. 

"Hello!"  was  his  morning  greeting,  as  he 
dropped  into  a  chair.  He  proceeded  instantly 
to  give  his  directions  to  the  maid.  No  invalid 
order  was  his. 

"No  —  no  grapefruit.  I  want  my  chop,  and 
some  bacon  and  eggs;  tell  Gretchen  to  brown 
the  eggs  better  than  she  did  yesterday.  Muffins 
this  morning?  What?  Oh  bother!  You  know 
I  hate  toast,  Annie!  Oh,  waffles  —  that 's  better! 
Coffee,  of  course." 


6  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"  Sounds  like  an  order  you  'd  give  at  a  hotel," 
observed  his  sister,  with  scorn.  "I  wonder 
Gretchen  does  n't  make  a  fuss  at  having  to  cook 
a  whole  breakfast  like  that  just  for  you. 
Nobody  else  wants  such  a  heavy  meal  at  this 
hour." 

"The  bigger  geese  you  all  are  then.  If  1 
picked  at  my  breakfast  the  way  the  rest  of  you 
do,  I  'd  soon  lose  this  good  muscle  and  wind  o( 
mine." 

"I  never  heard  that  hot  waffles  and  syrup 
were  good  for  muscle  and  wind."  Murray  looked 
cynical  under  his  dark  eyebrows.  "They 
would  n't  be  allowed  at  any  training-table." 

Forrest  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  surveyed 
his  brother.  "A  lot  you  know  about  training 
tables  —  a  fellow  who  spent  his  two  college  years 
cramming  for  honours,"  he  said,  pointedly.  "No 
Wonder  you  look  like  a  pale  ghost  on  such  rations. 
Here  comes  mother  at  last." 

Mrs.  Harrison  Townsend,  in  a  trailing  pale 
blue  gown,  her  fair  hair  piled  high  upon  her 
head,  came  in  with  an  air  of  abstraction. 

"Out  late  last  night?"  Forrest  asked  her, 
attacking  his  chop  with  relish.  "A  dissipated 
lot  you  all  look  but  me.  Even  Murray  would 
be  taken  for  a  chap  that  got  in  toward  morning. 
That  comes  of  reading  in  bed.  Now  look  at  me. 


IN  GAY  STREET  7 

I  was  in  after  the  last  of  you,  and  I  'm  as  fresh 
as  a  daisy/' 

"For  a  boy  not  out  of  his  teens  your  hours 
strike  me  as  peculiar."  Murray  rose  slowly 
as  he  spoke.  He  glanced  at  his  mother.  She 
was  busy  with  letters  she  had  found  at  her  plate. 

Murray  limped  slowly  over  to  the  end  of  tha 
room,  where  a  great  semi-circular  alcove,  filled 
with  windows,  a  cushioned  seat  running  round 
its  whole  extent,  looked  out  upon  the  shrubbery 
and  the  street  beyond.  He  sank  down  upon 
this  seat,  and  gazed  indifferently  out  of  the 
window. 

Across  the  narrow  side  street  which  led  away 
from  stately  Worthington  Square  into  a  much 
less  pretentious  neighborhood  stood  a  big  fur 
niture  van,  unloading  its  contents  before  a  small 
brown  house.  Although  upon  the  left  side  of 
the  Townsend  place  lay  a  fine  stretch  of  lawn,  at 
the  right  the  house  stood  not  more  than  ten  yards 
away  from  the  side  street.  Its  present  owner 
had  attempted  to  remedy  this  misfortune  of  site 
by  planting  a  thick  hedge  and  much  shrubbery, 
but  a  narrow  vista  remained  through  which, 
from  the  dining-room  windows,  the  little  brown 
house  opposite  could  be  seen  with  the  effect  of 
being  viewed  through  a  field-glass  and  broughf 
into  close  range. 


8  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"What's  that  over  there  in  Gay  Street?" 
Olive  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  furniture-van. 
"  New  people  moving  in  ?  Goodness !  How  many 
tenants  has  that  house  had  ?  They  're  always 
moving  out  and  moving  in  —  nobody  can  keep 
track  of  them." 

Mrs.  Townsend,  looking  up  from  her  letter, 
glanced  out  in  her  turn.  "There  is  certainly 
no  need  to  keep  track  of  them,"  she  observed. 
"What  your  Grandfather  Townsend  could  have 
been  thinking  of  when  he  built  this  house  on  the 
very  edge  of  such  a  fine  lot " 

"Grandfather  Townsend  was  a  shrewd  old 
man,  and  had  an  eye  to  the  sale  of  lots  on  the 
farther  side  of  the  house  when  land  got  high  here/* 
was  Forrest's  explanation. 

Five  minutes  later  he  was  out  of  the  house 
and  crossing  the  lawn  to  the  stables  —  a  gay  and 
gallant  young  figure  in  his  riding  clothes.  From 
the  window  of  his  own  room  upstairs  Murray 
watched  his  brother  go,  feeling  bitterly,  as  he 
often  did,  the  contrast  between  Forrest's  superb 
young  health  and  his  own  crippled  condition, 
the  result  of  an  accident  two  years  before,  and 
the  illness  which  had  followed  it. 

"  *  Don't  get  outdoors  enough!'  '  he  said  to 
himself.  "I  fancy  if  I  could  go  tearing  out  of 
the  house  like  that  every  morning,  jump  on 


IN  GAY  STREET  9 

Bluebottle,  and  gallop  off  down  Frankfort  Boule 
vard  I  could  get  outdoor  air  enough  to  keep  me 
healthy." 

An  hour  afterward  there  was  a  knock  at  his 
door,  and  a  child's  voice  called:  "O  Murray, 
may  I  come  in  ?" 

His  thirteen-year-old  sister  Shirley  somehow 
seemed  nearer  to  Murray  than  any  other  mem 
ber  of  his  family.  "Come  in!"  he  responded. 

"O  Murray,"  the  little  sister  began  instantly, 
"some  new  people  are  moving  into  the  little 
brown  house,  and  there  's  a  girl  just  my  age! 
She  looks  so  nice!  I  've  been  watching  her. 
She  's  helping  wash  windows.  Oh,  please  come 
into  the  den  and  let  me  show  you!" 

From  the  "den"  it  could  all  be  seen.  There 
were  two  girls  on  the  small  porch,  each  washing 
a  window.  The  elder  girl  looked  as  if  she  were 
about  eighteen,  her  abundant  curly  hair,  of  a 
decided  reddish  brown,  being  worn  low  at  her 
neck  after  the  fashion  of  girls  of  that  age.  Even 
across  the  street  the  observers  could  see  that 
she  had  a  merry  face,  full  of  life  and  colour. 

The  younger  girl,  was  about  Shirley's  size, 
round-faced  and  sturdy,  and  apparently  of 
an  amiable  frame  of  mind,  for  having  acci 
dentally  tipped  over  her  pail,  she  took  the  mishap 
in  the  jolliest  spirit,  and  throwing  back  her  thick 


io  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

brown  braids  of  hair,  mopped  up  the  swimming 
porch  with  lively  flourishes. 

"I  wish  we  could  see  'em  closer,"  suggested 
Shirley.  "They  look  so  nice  —  don't  you  think 
they  do  ?  —  not  a  bit  like  the  other  people  that 
have  lived  in  that  house.  I  saw  their  mother, 
I  'm  sure  I  did,  a  little  while  ago  —  she  had  the 
dearest  face!  Murray,  don't  you  think  you  'd 
like  to  take  a  little  walk  ?  It  would  be  such  fun 
to  go  past  the  house  while  they  're  out  there,  and 
they  'd  be  sure  to  turn  and  look,  so  we  could  see 
their  faces.  Please,  Murray!  We  may  not  have  so 
good  a  chance  after  they  get  the  windows  washed." 

It  was  something  to  do,  certainly.  Motives 
of  interest  for  the  daily  walk  upon  which  the 
doctors  insisted  were  few,  and  the  older  brother 
gladly  followed  his  anxious  young  leader  out  into 
the  spring  sunshine.  Slowly,  Murray's  cane 
tapping  their  advance,  they  turned  the  corner 
from  Worthington  Square  into  Gay  Street. 

Coming  rapidly  toward  them  from  the  opposite 
direction  was  a  young  fellow  of  about  Murray's 
age.  This  youth,  looking  toward  the  brown 
house,  gave  a  low  whistle.  The  girls  upon  the 
porch  turned  and  waved  their  cloths,  and  the 
newcomer,  making  three  leaps  of  the  short  path 
to  the  house,  and  one  jump  of  the  low  porch, 
was  with  them. 


IN  GAY  STREET  u 

They  did  not  shout,  those  three,  and  the  elder 
girl's  voice,  Murray  noted,  was  delightfully 
modulated;  but  he  and  Shirley  were  close  now, 
and  they  could  not  help  hearing  the  greeting. 

"  Hard  at  it  already  ?  Everything  come  ?  I 
got  off  for  an  hour,  and  thought  I  'd  rush  up  and 
do  what  I  could." 

"That  was  lovely  of  you,  Pete,"  said  the  elder 
girl.  A  surreptitious  glance  from  Murray,  and 
a  frank  stare  from  Shirley,  proved  her  to  possess 
a  very  attractive  face,  indeed,  as  she  smiled  at 
the  stoutly  built  young  man  before  her.  "Yes, 
everything  has  come,  and  mother  can  keep  you 
busy  every  minute.  Window-washing  would  n't 
seem  to  come  first,  but  we  thought  we  'd  get  at 
least  this  little  front  room  in  order  by  night,  so 
that  when  you  all  came  home 

Her  voice  was  growing  indistinct  as  the  passers- 
by  moved  reluctantly  on.  But  the  younger  girl 
at  this  point  broke  in,  and  her  voice,  high  and 
eager  like  Shirley's  own,  carried  farther: 

"O  Petey,  Jane  and  I  are  to  have  the  dearest, 
littlest  room  you  ever  saw,  right  under  the  eaves. 
Jane  can't  stand  up  all  over,  but  I  can  —  except 
close  to  the  wall.  It 's  so  little,  Jane  thinks 
we  can  paper  it  ourselves.  If  we  can  only " 

Here  the  deeper  voice  of  the  youth  interrupted, 
3vnd  nothing  more  was  distinguishable.  Murray 


iz  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

and  Shirley  walked  on,  both,  it  must  be  confessed, 
wishing  they  had  eyes  in  the  backs  of  their  heads. 

"Oh,  do  let's  turn  and  go  back!"  begged 
Shirley,  with  one  quick  glance  behind.  But 
Murray  made  her  keep  on  to  the  corner,  and 
then  insisted  on  crossing  the  street. 

"  Even  now  they  may  guess  that  we  're  watching 
them,"  he  said.  "Don't  stare  so  at  them,  child." 

"But  they're  going  in.  Oh,  look,"- -she 
clutched  his  arm  - -"there's  the  mother!  I  *m 
sure  she  is.  Look!  Isn't  she  dear?" 

She  did  look  "dear."  She  was  enveloped 
in  an  apron,  and  her  sleeves  were  rolled  up  to 
the  elbows  revealing  a  pair  of  round,  white, 
capable  arms.  Her  abundant  gray  hair  rolled 
and  puffed  about  her  face  in  a  most  girlish  fashion, 
her  bright,  dark  eyes  were  set  under  arching 
eyebrows,  and  her  face,  almost  as  fresh  in  colour 
ing  as  her  daughter's,  was  full  of  charm. 

The  young  man,  laughing,  put  an  arm  about 
her  shoulders,  and  drew  her  back  with  him  into 
the  house.  The  two  girls,  gathering  up  their 
pails  and  cloths,  and  exchanging  low,  gay  talk, 
followed,  and  the  door  was  closed. 

The  April  sunshine  suddenly  faded  out  of  the 
narrow  side  street  and  left  it  as  commonplace 
as  ever.  Yet  not  quite.  Murray  and  Shirley, 
2;az:.ng  across  at  the  dull  little  brown  house* 


IN  GAY  STREET  13 

were  longing  to  enter  it.  It  was  quite  evident 
that  life  of  a  sort  they  hardly  knew  was  about 
to  be  lived  within. 

With  this  new  interest  to  stimulate  him,  it 
was  perhaps  not  strange  that  Murray  should 
have  found  it  rather  easier  than  usual  to  get 
out  for  his  afternoon  walk,  or  that  it  should 
have  ended  by  a  slow  progress  through  Gay 
Street.  There  were  somehow  so  few  young  people 
he  cared  for,  and  the  faces  of  the  three  he  had 
seen  had  struck  him  as  so  interesting,  that  he 
wondered,  as  he  tapped  along  with  his  cane, 
by  what  means  he  could  learn  to  know  them. 

Just  as  Murray  came  along  the  street,  the 
younger  of  the  two  girls  he  had  seen  opened  the 
door,  and  holding  it  ajar,  addressed  somebody 
inside  in  her  childishly  penetrating  voice: 

"I  'm  going  to  find  a  telephone  somewhere, 
Janey,  if  I  have  to  ring  at  every  door.  No  —  I  '11 
iell  them  we  are  n't  the  sort  of  people  who  borrow 
molasses  and  telephones  and  things  all  the  time, 
but—  Why,  I  '11  say  it 's  very  important — any 
body  would  understand  about  wall-paper  not 
coming  and  the  man  waiting.  No,  I  don't  suppose 
they  have  in  such  a  little  house,  but  it  won't  do 
any  harm  to  ask.  Of  course,  across  the  street 

they  'd    have  —  but   I   don't    quite No,   of 

course  I  won't,  but " 


I4  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

She  ended  an  interview  which  evidently  wa« 
not  proceeding  according  to  her  satisfaction  by 
closing  the  door  and  running  down  the  steps 
into  the  street.  Murray  wanted  very  much  to 
speak  to  her  and  offer  the  use  of  his  telephone, 
but  she  whisked  away  so  fast  he  had  no  time. 
He  walked  more  slowly  than  ever,  saw  her 
turn  away  from  two  Gay  Street  doors,  and  then 
retraced  his  steps,  and  met  her  as  she  was 
preparing  to  ascend  the  third  small  porch. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said,  "but  I  thought 
I  heard  you  say  something  about  needing  to 
use  a  telephone.  Won't  you  please  come  over 
and  use  ours  —  the  house  on  the  corner  ?" 

"Oh,  thank  you!"  She  looked  relieved 
"That 's  good  of  you.  We  hate  to  bother  any., 
body  like  this,  and  Jane  —  my  sister  —  did  n't 
want  me  to,  but  the  paper  man  is  waiting,  and 
he  's  getting  very  cross,  and  we  do  want  to  get 
the  dining-room  done  before  night.  I  '11  go  and 
tell  Jane.  She  '11  have  to  telephone.  I  can't  — 
I  don't  know  how!" 

She  ran  into  the  house,  and  a  moment  later 
the  elder  sister  emerged,  and  came  down  to  Murray 
to  accept  his  courtesy. 

"  It 's  very  kind  of  you,"  she  said,  as  he  ac 
companied  her  across  the  street  and  in  at  the 
hedge  gate.  "To-morrow  happens  to  be  a  legal 


IN  GAY  STREET  15 

holiday,  you  know,  and  the  paperer  says  if  he 
does  n't  have  the  right  paper  this  afternoon  it 
will  be  three  days  before  he  can  finish." 

"That  would  be  an  awful  bother,"  Murray 
declared,  "just  as  you  're  getting  settled.  I  'm 
glad  we  're  so  near.  Come  in.  This  way, 
please.  Take  this  chair  here  by  the  desk. 
I  '11  'just  wait  in  the  hall  and  show  you  the 
way  out." 

As  he  waited,  Murray  could  not  help  hearing. 
The  business  did  not  seem  to  be  easily  accom 
plished.  When  his  visitor  had  succeeded  in 
getting  the  paper  house  on  the  telephone  she 
had  a  very  bad  time  making  the  man  at  the 
other  end  of  the  line  understand  about  the  mis 
take  in  the  paper,  and  when  it  became  plain  that 
he  did  understand,  Jane's  surprised  little  sen 
tences  showed  that  he  was  a  most  unaccom 
modating  person,  and  would  not  do  what  she 
requested. 

"You  can't  do  it?"  she  asked,  and  Murray 
observed  that  with  all  the  trouble  she  was  having 
her  voice  did  not  lose  its  courteous  intonations. 

"Not  this  afternoon  at  all?  We  are  very 
anxious  to  get  the  room  settled  and  the  paperer 
says  -  Yes,  I  know,  but  it  surely  was  n't 

our  mistake.  I  beg  your  pardon  —  it 's  only 
three  o'clock,  I  think,  not  four.  He  says 


16  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

there  's  plenty  of  time  if  -  -  No,  I  *ve  nobody 
to  send." 

"Look  here!"  Murray's  disgusted  voice  was 
at  her  ear.  He  was  gently  attempting  to  take 
the  receiver  away  from  her.  "Let  me  tackle 
that  person,  please  " 

The  next  moment  Jane  was  standing  beside 
the  desk,  her  cheeks  rosy  with  a  quite  reasonable 
indignation  at  the  treatment  she  had  been  re 
ceiving  from  the  surly  unknown.  At  the  tele 
phone  sat  her  new  acquaintance,  sending  rapid 
requests  over  the  wire  in  a  tone  which  plainly 
was  making  somebody  attend. 

"  Not  fix  up  your  own  mistake  to-night  —  with 
to-morrow  a  holiday  ?  Why  not  ?  There 's 
plenty  of  time.  Send  by  a  special  messenger, 
of  course,  and  tell  him  to  be  quick.  Who 's 
talking  to  you  ?  That  does  n't  make  any  special 
difference,  does  it  ?  It  may  be  a  small  order  — 
I  don't  see  what  that  has  to  do  with  it.  Mrs. 
Bell  needs  that  paper  up  within  half  an  hour. 
Yes  —  well,  this  is  Harrison  Townsend's  house 

—  Worthington  Square,  and  I  'm  telephoning  for 
our  friends.     What?     Oh,  you  will!     Well,  thank 
you!     I  'm   glad  you   see  your  way   clear.     Yes 

—  half  an  hour  —  I  say,  make  it  twenty  minutes, 
can't  you,   please?     Very  well."     And    Murray 
broke  off,  and    hung    up   the    receiver   with   an 


IN  GAY  STREET  17 

impatient  click  which  expressed  his  contempt 
for  a  clerk  who  would  hurry  up  an  order  for 
Worthington  Square  when  he  would  n't  do  it 
for  Gay  Street. 

"Idiot!"  he   remarked. 

The  girl  beside  him  moved  toward  the  door, 
smiling.  "It  was  ever  so  kind  of  you,"  she 
said.  ''The  paper  is  for  the  dining-room,  and 
you  can  guess  how  it  upsets  things  to  have  the 
dining-room  in  confusion." 

"  I  hope  you  did  n't  mind  my  telling  that 
fellow  you  were  our  friends,"  said  Murray,  as 
he  accompanied  his  guest  to  the  door.  "Such 
near  neighbours  - 

"Oh,  I  understood!  That  was  what  made 
it  so  easy  for  him  to  get  a  messenger!  Only  — 
please  don't  think  we  - 

"Yes?"  Murray  was  smiling  encouragingly 
at  her. 

"It  sounds  absurd,  but  —  it's  so  dreadfully 
soon  to  be  borrowing  telephones  - 

"Or  molasses  ?" 

They  both  laughed.  Murray's  hand  lingered 
upon  the  door  knob,  which  at  this  moment  it 
became  timely  for  him  to  turn  for  her.  "I 
could  n't  help  hearing  your  sister  assuring  you 
that  she  would  tell  people  you  never  borrowed 
molasses.  I  don't  see  why  not.  We  might  need 


18  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

to  borrow  it  of  you  some  time,  but  of  course  if 
you  feel  there  's  something  especially  prohibitive 
about  molasses 

He  knew  he  was  not  saying  anything  brilliant, 
but  it  made  her  laugh  again,  and  laughing  is  an 
excellent  way  of  getting  over  a  trying  situation. 

But  he  was  obliged  to  open  the  door  for  her 
without  delay,  for  she  plainly  was  not  going 
to  be  tempted  into  lingering.  She  ran  down 
the  steps,  and  he  saw  her  bronze-red  hair  catch 
the  sunshine  as  she  went.  As  she  reached  the 
bottom  he  called  after  her:  "I  hope  you  '11  like 
that  paper  mighty  well  when  it 's  on!" 

"Thank  you!"  he  heard  her  answer,  over 
her  shoulder,  and  he  was  sure  that  she  was  still 
smiling.  It  seemed  to  him  reasonably  certain 
that  the  Bells  were  pleasant  people  to  know. 


CHAPTER  II 

GAY  STREET  SETTLES  DOWN 

TRAMP,  tramp,  upon  the  little  porch. 
Peter  flung  the  door  wide,  and  in  marched 
the  four  male  members  of  the  house  of  Bell.  The 
door  opened  hospitably  at  once  into  the  living- 
room,  so  that  the  four  were  able  at  a  glance  to 
see  what  had  been  accomplished,  and  they 
immediately  gave  voice  to  their  surprise.  "Hi!'* 
This  was  fifteen-year-old  Rufus's  exclamation. 
"Hi!  hi!  Hip,  hip,  hurray-ay!" 

"Well,  well,  they  must  have  worked!"  said 
Peter.  '*  I  was  up  here  an  hour  this  morning, 
and  they  had  n't  got  further  than  washing  the 
windows." 

"When  it  comes  to  hustling  work,  Mother 
Bell  and  corps  can't  be  beaten,"  declared  Ross 
McAndrew,  the  cousin  of  the  Bells,  a  pleasant- 
faced  lad  of  eighteen. 

There  was  a  rush  from  the  rear  of  the  house, 
and  Nancy  was  upon  them  —  Nancy,  the  twelve- 
year-old,  with  the  thick  brown  braids  and  the 
round,  bright  face.  Ross  caught  her  and  swung 


20  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

her  up  to  his  shoulder,  where  she  struggled 
frantically. 

"I  'm  too  old,  Ross!"  she  pleaded,  rumpling 
his  curly  fair  hair  in  revenge  until  it  stood  on 
end.  "Put  me  down!  Put  me  down  at  oncei 
O-oh,  you  're  bumping  my  head  against  the 
ceiling!" 

He  looked  up  and  laughing  swung  her 
gently  down.  "It  isn't  a  very  lofty  apartment, 
is  it,  Nan?  Did  it  hurt?" 

"Only  my  feelings.  Does  n't  it  look  nice 
here  ?  Mother  worked  at  the  kitchen,  and  Jane 
and  I  did  all  this.  We  wanted  it  to  look  like 
home  when  you  came." 

"It  does,  indeeed.  But  I  must  admit  I'n 
glad  mother  kept  at  the  kitchen,"  laughed  her 
father,  with  a  tweak  of  one  fat  braid.  "It  seems 
too  much  to  expect  that  we  should  have  a  meal 
to-night  in  all  the  disorder,  but  Peter  brought 
back  word  this  morning  that  we  were  to  come." 

"Indeed  you  are,"  said  a  voice  from  an  inner 
doorway,  and  everybody  turned.  A  fresh  white 
apron  tied  about  her  trim  waist  —  where  did 
she  find  it  in  the  confusion  ? —  her  beautiful  hair 
in  careful  order,  Mrs.  Bell  beamed  at  her  big 
family.  "  We  've  nothing  but  an  Irish  stew  for 
you,  but  we  had  it  on  this  morning  as  soon  as 
the  fire  was  built,  and  it 's  tender  and  fine.*' 


IN  GAY  STREET  21 

"Good  for  you!  We  like  nothing  better. 
Where's  Janey  ?" 

"In  the  kitchen,  trying  to  make  places  for 
you  all  at  the  kitc!:^n  table.  We  could  n't  do 
anything  with  the  dining-room.  The  paperer 
has  only  just  gone." 

"Come  on,  you  people!"  called  a  blithe  voice 
from  the  next  room,  and  Jane's  face  looked  over 
her  mother's  shoulder.  "Turn  to  the  right  as 
you  come  through  the  door,  and  follow  the  wall 
round.  I  've  made  a  passage  that  way,  but 
you  're  likely  to  get  into  perilous  places  if  you 
try  to  steer  for  yourselves." 

In  single  file  they  followed  directions,  all  but 
young  Rufus,  who  preferred  leaping  from  box 
to  barrel,  and  from  table  to  trunk,  and  so  reached 
the  haven  of  the  kitchen  first. 

"ffhoo-p!"  he  ejaculated.  "Say,  but  this 
is  jolly!  Mm-m!  Smell  that  stew?  Hope 
you  've  lots  of  it  ? " 

"All  you  can  eat,"  responded  Jane,  confidently. 
"Now  if  you  '11  let  me  seat  you  all,  I  '11  make 
a  place  for  every  one.  Mother  to  go  first,  at  the 
other  end,  in  the  chair  —  our  only  one  available 
as  yet.  Next,  Ross,  on  the  cracker-box,  and 
Nan  on  the  wood-box.  Daddy's  to  have  this 
soap-box  all  to  himself,  with  a  cushion  on  it. 
Peter  can  sit  on  that  coal-hod,  turned  upside  down/' 


22  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

There  was  a  roar  at  this,  and  a  protest  from 
Peter.  "Can't  I  have  a  newspaper  to  pad  the 
top  of  it,  sis  ? " 

"If  you  will  find  one,"  Jane  responded,  un 
moved.  "Rufe  will  have  to  take  the  top  of  that 
flour-barrel,  and  we  '11  hand  up  his  things." 

Mrs.  Bell  was  a  famous  cook,  and  understood 
well  the  quantity  of  food  necessary  to  appease 
the  keen  appetites  of  her  big  family,  so  the  bowls 
were  replenished  again  and  again,  until  all  v  "ere 
satisfied,  and  still  the  kettle  was  not  quite  empty. 

"You  're  not  much  like  a  girl  I  saw  to-day, 
Janey,"  remarked  Peter,  balancing  himself  in  the 
attempt  to  sit  comfortably  back  upon  his  coal-hod, 
while  his  sister  removed  the  plates  and  set  forth 
a  dish  of  baked  apples  and  cream.  Peter  laughed 
at  the  recollection.  "She  was  too  stately  and 
languid  to  lift  her  eyes  to  look  at  me,  after  the 
first  frosty  glance.  We  rode  up  town  on  the  same 
street  car  yesterday,  when  I  was  coming  here 
to  make  sure  the  house  was  ready  for  us.  It  was 
the  rush  hour,  of  course,  and  I  gave  her  my  seat. 
I  think  —  yes,  I  really  think" —Peter  paused  to 
reflect—  "she  said,  'Thank  you,'  though  since 
of  course  I  was  n't  looking  at  her  as  I  took  off 
my  hat  I  did  n't  see  her  lips  move.  She  and  I 
got  ofF  the  car  together,  and  came  up  Gay 
Street  together " 


IN  GAY  STREET  23 

"Together!"  from  Jane. 

"On  opposite  sides  of  the  street.  She  was  a 
little  ahead,  for  the  car  stopped  on  her  side.  I 
looked  across  at  her  with  interest  as  I  came  along 
—  wanted  to  find  out  what  our  neighbors  were 
like,  you  know.  She  was  carrying  a  big  muff, 
and  had  some  things  in  it  —  been  shopping,  of 
course.  Oh,  I  don't  mean  parcels  -  —  she 
would  n't  be  caught  carrying  a  parcel  —  but 
letters  and  a  purse  and  a  card-case  and  a  pocket- 
handkerchief,  and  so  forth.  Well,  as  we  came 
along  I  noticed  she  had  dropped  something  — 
handkerchief,  by  the  way  it  fluttered  down. 
Of  course  I  bolted  across  the  street,  through 
six  inches  of  spring  mud,  grasped  the  article, 
and  rushed  after  her.  I  said,  'Pardon  me,  but 
you  dropped  your  handkerchief,'  and  held  it 
out.  She  took  it,  murmured  'Thank  you!' — 
I  saw  her  lips  move  this  time  —  and  sailed  on 
like  a  queen.  I  took  off  my  hat,  waded  back 
through  the  mud,  and  was  continuing  on  my 
thankless  way  - 

"Thankless! —  I  thought  you  just  admitted 
she  thanked  you,"  objected  Ross,  with  a  twinkle. 

"It  was  one  of  those  thankless  thank-yous, 
just  the  same,"  explained  Peter,  with  gravity. 
"Well,  as  I  say,  I  went  on  —  like  this  story — • 
meditating  upon  her  cordial  manner,  when  I 


*4  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

saw  something  else  fall  from  the  capacious 
muff." 

"You    didn't!"     Jane    looked    incredulous. 

"Pardon  me,  I  did.  This  time  I  did  not 
bolt  across  the  street;  indeed,  I  stopped  to  con 
sider  whether  I  should  not  shout,  'Hi,  hi,  there, 
you  Ve  dropped  your  purse,  lady!'  like  a  street 
gamin.  But  reflecting  on  the  embarrassment 
this  might  cause  me  at  some  future  date,  when 
ghe  and  I  should  really  meet,  I  picked  my  way 
across  again,  seized  the  pocketbook,  and  was 
about  to  pursue  her,  when  she  looked  round  and 
caught  me  in  the  act  of  scrutinizing  it,  as  one 
naturally  does  upon  picking  up  a  gold-mounted, 
aristocratic  affair  like  that,  the  like  of  which  he 
expects  never  - 

"Oh,  go  on!"  Rufus  could  no  longer  endure 
his  brother's  tantalising  eloquence. 

"I  hastened  to  her  side,"  continued  Peter, 
who  was  gifted  in  the  art  of  putting  things  elabo 
rately  when  he  chose,  "and  remarked,  'I  believe 
this  is  yours  ?'  She  —  now  what,  friends,  would 
you  naturally  expect  a  girl  to  do  on  receiving 
the  third  favour  from  a  stranger  within  fifteen 
minutes  ?" 

"What  did  you  expect?  Did  you  suppose 
she  would  fly  into  your  - 

"Did  you  want  her  to  open  the   pocketbook 


IN  GAY  STREET  25 

and  hand  you  a  quarter,  saying,  'Here,  my  honest 
lad- 

"  Think  she  'd  say,  'You  must  call  and  see 
father.  He  will  give  you  a  position  in  his  - 

"Your  suggestions  are  far-fetched  and  improb 
able.  I  expected  none  of  these  things  to  happen. 
But  consider  the  situation.  Here  was  I,  crossing 
the  street  for  the  third  time  in  the  mud  - 

"Goon!" 

"Would  n't  you  have  thought,  considering  the 
Absurdity  of  the  affair  —  her  strewing  things 
along  the  street  like  that  —  the  least  she  could 
have  done  would  have  been  to 

"Smile!"  supplied  Jane.     "Didn't  she,  Peter  ?" 

"She  did  not,"  avowed  Peter.  "She  just 
looked  at  me  as  if  she  thought  I  had  been  about 
to  steal  her  purse,  took  it,  and  went  on,  this  time 
without  saying  thank  you!" 

"Good  gracious!"  This  from  Ross.  "She  must 
be  a  nice  girl  to  know.  And  you  look  pretty  well, 
too,  Pete,  in  that  blue  suit." 

"Where  does  she  live?"  Nancy  inquired,  her 
round  face  sympathetic  with  Peter's  mock  humilia 
tion. 

"In  the  big  house  across  the  street.  If  you 
get  out  of  milk  or  eggs,  Janey,  don't  hesitate  to 
run  across  and  borrow  some,"  counselled  Peter. 

"Now  if  you  '11   just  make  use  of  us  all  this 


26  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

evening,"  proposed  Mr.  Bell,  rising,  "we  can 
accomplish  a  good  deal — eh,  boys  ?  Shall  I  open 
the  boxes  and  barrels,  Martha  ?" 

At  this  suggestion  three  more  pairs  of  strong 
arms  were  put  at  Mrs.  Bell's  service.  She  set 
every  one  at  work  at  once. 

"Yes,  Joe,  dear,"  she  agreed,  "if  you  will  open 
the  boxes,  I  '11  take  out  the  things  and  put  them 
in  place  as  far  as  I  can.  That's  right,  Nancy, 
you  help  Jane  with  the  dishes,  and  when  they 
are  done  you  can  go  up  stairs  and  make  up  the 
beds.  Ross  and  Peter  — 

"Yes,  we  '11  set  up  the  beds,"  said  Peter,  with 
alacrity,  anticipating  the  division  of  work,  "and 
uncrate  the  chests  of  drawers  and  the  bedroom  fur 
niture  generally.  Come  on,  Ross.  You  're  as  much 
one  of  the  family  as  any  of  us  now,  since  you 
helped  us  move,  and  a  little  family  labour  like  this 
will  complete  the  job.  Whoever  lives  with  us 
has  to  learn  to  be  handy  man  about  the  house." 

"I  'm  ready."  Ross  looked  it.  There  was 
an  air  of  alertness  about  him,  for  he  was  slimmer 
and  lighter  than  Peter,  and  his  fair  curly  hair 
made  him  appear  much  younger,  although  only 
two  years  separated  the  ages  of  the  cousins. 

"You  will  find  the  furniture  mostly  in  the 
rooms  where  it  belongs,"  Mrs.  Bell  called  after 
then*-  "Jane  will  be  up  soon  and  straighten 


IN  GAY  STREET  27 

you  out,  if  you  get  mixed.  Rufus,  suppose  you 
go  round  after  the  others  and  bring  away  all 
the  litter  they  leave  after  the  uncrating,  and 
make  a  neat  pile  of  it  in  the  wood-shed/* 

The  steep  and  narrow  little  staircase  ascended 
abruptly  between  walls  from  the  dining-room 
and  led  to  low-ceiled  regions  above,  which,  to 
the  eyes  of  Murray  and  Shirley  Townsend,  from 
the  big  house  across  the  street,  facing  Worthington 
Square,  would  have  seemed  too  cramped  and 
small  of  dimensions  to  be  habitable,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  possibility  of  their  ever  being  made  comfort 
able.  But  the  Bells  were  of  the  sort  who  make 
the  best  of  everything,  and  so  far  none  of  them 
had  suggested  that  the  little  house  was  not  an 
abode  fit  for  the  finest. 

"Jane  and  Nan  in  one  room,  Rufe  and  I  in 
another,  and  Mr.  Ross  McAndrew  alone  in  state 
in  this  little  one  in  the  corner.  I  judge  by  the 
signs  that 's  the  stowing  of  the  crowd  intended," 
speculated  Peter,  surveying  each  room  in  turn. 

"That  corner  room's  as  big  as  any.  I  don't 
think  I  ought  to  have  it  all  to  myself,"  objected 
Ross. 

"What,  not  that  spacious  eight-by-nine  apart 
ment,  with  one  whole  side  under  the  eaves  ?" 
laughed  Peter.  "Well,  since  we  can't  split 
ourselves  into  halves,  and  like  the  family  of  the 


28  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

famous  poem  'we  are  seven,'  I  don't  see  but 
you'll  have  to  make  the  best  of  your  loneliness. 
The  beds  are  only  three-quarters  size,  and  Rufe 
takes  up  less  room  than  you  do,  so  he  and  I 
naturally  chum  it." 

"All  right.  Let's  make  a  start.  Catch  hold 
of  that  bureau,  and  heave  it  around  into  place." 

They  fell  to  work  with  a  will.  Ross,  the  more 
lightly  built,  showed  the  greater  energy  of  the 
two,  though  Peter  worked  away  quite  as  steadily. 
But  after  an  hour  of  hard  labour  Peter  called  a  halt. 

"Oh,  let's  put  it  through,"  and  Ross  bent 
over  a  box  with  undiminished  ardour. 

His  attitude  appealed  to  Peter,  spoiling  for 
fun  after  a  long  day  at  the  factory,  and  in  a 
twinkling  he  had  tipped  his  cousin  head  first 
into  the  nearly  empty  box.  Shouts,  laughter 
and  a  lively  scuffle  ensued  —  so  lively  a  scuffle, 
indeed,  that  Mr.  Bell,  Jane  and  Nancy,  in  the 
dining-room  below,  energetically  sweeping  up 
the  litter  made  by  the  paperer,  smiled  at  one 
another  in  mock  dismay  as  the  floor  above 
resounded  with  the  pounding  and  scraping  of 
boot-heels,  and  the  very  walls  of  the  small  house 
trembled  with  the  fray. 

"Goodness,  I  should  think  it  was  elephants 
up  there!"  cried  Nancy,  and  ran  half-way  up 
the  stairs  to  see  what  was  going  on. 


IN  GAY  STREET  29 

Mr.  Bell  opened  his  mouth  to  say,  "Tell 
them  it 's  an  old  house,  Nan,  and  the  ceiling 's 
cracked" — when  the  thing  happened. 

The  ceiling  was  old,  the  house  was  not  too 
solidly  built,  and  the  battle  above  had  reached 
its  height  when,  quite  without  warning,  down 
upon  the  freshly  cleaned  floor  fell  a  great  mass 
of  plaster.  The  powdery  lime  rose  in  a  suffocating 
cloud  and  covered  Jane  and  her  father  with  dust 
and  debris. 

It  was  a  minute  more  before  the  combatants, 
wrestling  furiously  over  the  bare  floors  above, 
could  be  made  to  understand  by  a  horrified  young 
person,  who  shrieked  the  news  at  them  from  the 
top  of  the  staircase,  the  havoc  they  had  wrought. 

But  when  they  comprehended  what  had  hap 
pened  they  hurried  downstairs. 

"Well,  of  all  the —  Ross  was  too  shocked 

to  finish. 

"I  say,  but  we've  done  it  now,  have  'nt  we?" 
exclaimed    Peter,    in    disgust.     "Janey — dad  — 
it  did  n't  hurt  you,  did  it?" 

"Only  my  pride — and  my  hair,"  answered 
Jane,  as  she  vainly  tried  to  brush  her  curly  locks 
free  from  plaster. 

"It's  a  shame!  Why  didn't  you  stop  us? 
Clumsy  louts!  Pulling  the  place  down  about 
our  ears  the  very  first  night!" 


30  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"And  how  we  hurried  that  paper  man,  to  get 
him  through  to-night!"  lamented  Nancy,  brushing 
off  her  father  with  anxious  ringers.  "We  were 
going  to  have  the  dining-room  all  settled  to 
morrow  - 

"And  to-morrow 's  a  holiday,'*  murmured  Jane, 
from  under  her  hair. 

She  was  bending  forward,  with  her  head  at 
her  knees,  while  Mrs.  Bell  shook  out  the  clinging 
lumps  from  the  tangle  of  hair  in  which  they  were 
caught. 

"It's  a  quarter  of  ten, "announced  Rufus,  cheer 
fully.  "  Do  we  have  to  clear  this  up  to-night  ?" 

"I  should  say  so!"     Ross  caught  up  a  broom. 

"It's  the  least  we  can  do.  Get  a  box,  will 
you,  Rufe,  and  let's  have  the  worst  over.  Pete 
and  I  will  do  the  job,  and  the  rest  of  you  can  go 
upstairs  and  dance  a  hornpipe  over  our  heads. 
If  you  will  throw  things  at  us  from  time  to  time 
down  the  stairs  it  may  relieve  your  feelings." 

"Don't  feel  too  badly.  I  had  a  notion  all  the 
time  that  that  ceiling  ought  to  have  been  pulled 
down  before  we  papered  the  room;  it  looked  old 
and  shaky  to  me.  Now  we  '11  have  a  new  one 
that  will  stand  pillow-fights  as  long  as  we  live 
here,"  said  Mrs.  Bell,  smiling  at  the  rueful 
countenance  of  her  nephew. 

"  Right  you  are,  and   I  '11  have  a   man  here 


IN  GAY  STREET  31 

to  put  that  plaster  on  in  the  morning,  holiday  or 
no  holiday,"  promised  Peter. 

In  ten  minutes  the  plaster  had  been  swept 
up,  Jane's  hair  had  received  a  thorough  brushing, 
Mr.  Bell  had  been  relieved  of  several  lumps 
which  had  worked  their  way  down  his  back, 
and  the  family  went  to  bed  in  as  good  spirits  as 
if  nothing  had  happened 

The  next  morning  Peter  started  early  in  quest 
of  a  plasterer  to  restore  the  ceiling,  and  finding 
it  by  no  means  easy  to  discover  one  who  cared 
to  work  when  he  might  play,  came  home  after 
two  hours'  search  baffled  but  still  determined. 
A  passing  acquaintance  gave  him  a  clue,  and 
he  was  presently  hurrying  across  the  street  in 
search  of  the  Townsends'  coachman,  whose 
'orother,  the  acquaintance  had  said,  might  be 
persuaded  to  do  the  job. 

In  the  stables,  much  to  his  astonishment,  he 
came  fairly  upon  the  girl  whose  propensity  for 
losing  things  he  had  described  with  so  much  gusto 
the  evening  before. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said,  quickly — he 
seemed  to  be  always  begging  her  pardon  — 
"but  I  was  looking  for  your  coachman.  I  — 
he  —  I  hoped  he  could  tell  me  the  name  —  that 
is,  of  course  he  knows  the  name  —  I  mean,  I 
wanted  his  brother's  address." 


32  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

Peter  was  no  stammerer,  and  it  irritated  him 
very  much  to  be  saying  all  this  so  awkwardly, 
but  there  was  something  about  the  cool  dark 
eyes  of  this  girl,  as  she  stood  looking  at  him, 
which  rather  disconcerted  him.  She  had  evidently 
just  dismounted  from  her  horse,  and  now  Peter 
observed  2wo  things  —  first  that  she  was  rather 
oddly  prfie,  and  second,  that  her  side-saddle  had 
slipped,  and  rested  at  an  altogether  improper 
angle  upon  the  horse's  back.  As  he  saw  this  he 
came  forward. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  he  asked  quickly. 
"You  haven't  had  a  fall?  You  didn't  ride 
this  way,  of  course  ?" 

"Yes,  I  did,"  she  answered,  lifting  her  head 
rather  high,  and  then  suddenly  drooping  it  again. 

"How  far?  When  did  it  slip?  Were  you 
alone  ?"  Peter  examined  the  side-saddle. 

"  It  began  to  slip  —  back  —  at  —  the  boule 
vard,"  said  the  girl,  rather  slowly.  "I  —  I 
don't  know  just  how  I  kept  on,  but  I  did.  Lewis 
isn  't  here.  He  ought  to  be.  I  can't  put  up 
Blackthorn  myself." 

"Let  me  do  it  for  you."  Peter  took  the  bridle 
from  her.  He  soon  had  the  horse  in  the  stall  and 
had  put  away  the  saddle  and  bridle. 

"That  was  a  plucky  thing  to  do,"  declared 
Peter,  coming  back  to  the  stable  door,  where 


IN  GAY  STREET  33 

the  girl  had  dropped  into  the  coachman's  chair, 
"to  ride  home  with  a  slipping  saddle.  But  you 
ought  not  to  have  done  it,  you  know.  It  might 
have  slipped  a  lot  more  with  a  jerk,  and  thrown 
you.  See  here,  you  're  not  feeling  just  right,  are 
you?  Shall  I  call  somebody?" 

"No,  no!"  She  started  up.  "If  mother  knew 
the  least  thing  went  wrong  she  would  n't  let  me 
ride  at  all.  If  you  —  if  you  just  would  n't  mind 
staying  here  a  little,  till  I  feel  like  myself 
again  — — " 

"Why,  of  course  I  will"— and    Peter    stayed. 

It  was  only  for  a  few  minutes,  and  meanwhile 
Lewis,  the  coachman,  had  returned,  and  the 
matter  of  the  loose  saddle-girth  had  been  fully 
discussed  by  all  three.  Then  Peter  took  his 
way  home. 

Jane  met  him  at  the  doo*.  "Did  you  find 
where  the  plasterer  lives  ?"  she  asked,  eagerly. 

Peter  stared  at  her,  turned  about,  and  gazed 
across  the  street,  as  if  he  expected  to  see  a  plasterer 
following  in  his  path,  trowel  and  float  in  hand. 
Then  he  burst  into  a  laugh.  He  mumbled 
something  which  sounded  like  a  very  peculiar  name, 
if  it  was  a  name,  and  rapidly  retraced  his  footsteps 
across  the  street,  to  make  his  inquiry  of  Lewis,  the 
coachman. 


CHAPTER  in 

PETER    SEES    A    LIGHT 

THE  Bells  had  been  at  home  for  a  fortnight 
in  Gay  Street. 

The  little  house  was  in  order  from  cellar  to 
roof,  and  its  occupants  had  settled  down  to  the 
routine  of  their  daily  living,  well  content  with 
the  new  abode.  In  a  way  they  missed  the  larger 
house  and  freer  environments  of  the  remote 
suburban  place  they  had  left,  but  the  early 
hour  at  which  Mr.  Bell  and  the  boys  were 
now  able  to  reach  home,  and  the  later  one  at 
which  they  could  leave  in  the  morning,  amply 
compensated  for  the  more  cramped  quarters 
made  necessary  by  the  higher  rates  of  rental  in 
the  city. 

"It's  not  a  very  friendly  neighborhood, though, 
is  it,  Janey?"  commented  Peter  one  evening, 
as  he  and  Jane  stood  on  the  porch,  enjoying  the 
mild  mid-April  evening.  "How  many  calls  have 
you  had  ?  Two  ?" 

"Three,"  corrected  Jane,  cheerfully.  "The 
two  old  ladies  on  the  right,  the  mother  of  six 

34 


IN  GAY  STREET  35 

ow  the  left,  and  one  odd  person  from  Westlake 
Street.  The  rest  are  still  looking  us  over." 

"Nobody  from  Worthington  Square?"  Peter's 
tone  was  quizzical. 

"Absolutely  nobody,"  Jane  laughed.  "But 
we  have  one  acquaintance  in  Worthington  Square, 
Peter  —  the  little  Townsend  girl  with  the  sweet, 
pale  face.  She  wants  to  know  us  dreadfully, 
and  she's  such  a  dear,  democratic  little  person  the 
smiles  positively  tremble  on  her  mouth  when  I 
meet  her  —  which  I  do  almost  every  day.  So 
does  Nancy.  It  's  the  oddest  thing!  Nan  says 
she  almost  never  stirs  out  that  the  Townsend 
child  does  n't  appear." 

"She  wants  to  get  acquainted.  I  don't  blame 
her.  They  're  the  dullest  lot  over  there.  There 
seems  to  be  one  stirabout  —  the  good-looking 
chap  who  's  off  on  horseback  every  day.  But 
the  other  son  's  a  paleface,  and  the  daughter — • 
hum  —  well  -  Peter's  pause  was  eloquent 

"I  think  she's-  Hello!  What's  that?" 

He  had  looked  over  at  the  big  house  as  he  spoke 
of  its  inmates,  and  his  eye  had  been  caught  by 
an  appearance  which  struck  him  as  unusual. 
The  house  was  dimly  lighted  everywhere,  but 
in  one  room,  the  upper  one  with  the  semicircular 
window,  there  was  an  effect  of  brilliancy  of  a 
ruddier  color  than  is  ordinarily  produced  by 


36  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

electric  lights.  As  Peter  and  Jane  now  stared 
at  it,  it  seemed  to  grow  in  intensity,  and  there 
showed  a  wavering  and  flashing  of  this  singular 
light  which  looked  suspiciously  like  fire. 

"  Do  you  suppose  there  can  be  anything  wrong  ?" 
speculated  Peter,  anxiously.  "Of  course  a  fire 
of  coke  or  cannel  in  a  fireplace  might  give  that 
effect,  through  those  thin  curtains,  but  we  — 
haven't  seen  —anything  like  it  —  before  —  and  - 
By  George!"  as  the  light  flared  more  ruddily 
than  ever  for  an  instant  and  then  grew  dull  again, 
f'I  believe  there  is  trouble  there!  Anyhow, 
I  '11  run  over  and  find  out!  They  can't  blame  me 
for  that." 

He  was  starting  off  at  a  run  when  Jane  darted 
after  him.  "I  'm  sure  I  saw  flames  jump  up, 
Pete!"  she  called,  excitedly.  "The  window's 
open,  and  the  curtain  blew  to  one  side.  Oh, 
hurry!  Most  of  them  are  away;  I  saw  them 
drive  off  an  hour  ago." 

She  was  running  at  Peter's  side,  fleet  of  foot 
as  he.  Her  mind  had  leaped  to  the  youngest 
member  of  the  unknown  household,  the  one  who 
did  not  drive  away  after  nightfall  to  dinners  and 
parties,  like  the  others.  Only  that  day  she  had 
met  Shirley  and  exchanged  with  her  the  few 
bright  words  the  little  girl  seemed  to  welcome 
so  eagerly.  They  ran  up  the  steps  of  the  great 


IN  GAY  STREET  37 

portico,  with  its  stately  columns,  and  hurrying 
across  it,  came  to  a  partly  opened  door.  Peter 
rang  the  bell,  peering  impatiently  through  the 
vestibule  into  the  large,  square,  half-lighted 
interior.  "I  '11  wait  just  one  minute  for  an 
answer,"  he  said  with  his  foot  on  the  threshold, 
"and  then  I  '11  be  up  that  gorgeous  staircase  back 
there." 

Jane  put  her  head  in  at  the  door.  "I  smell 
smoke!"  she  breathed,  and  Peter  pushed  past 
her.  Delaying  no  longer,  he  ran  across  the  hall 
and  up  the  staircase,  closely  followed  by  Jane. 

As  he  reached  the  top,  a  little  white-clad  figure 
ran  screaming  toward  him.  He  rushed  by,  but 
Jane,  at  his  heels,  caught  the  little  girl  up  in  her 
arms. 

"There,  there,  darling,"  she  soothed  the  fright 
ened,  sobbing  child,  "you  're  all  safe!  Peter 
will  take  care  of  the  fire.  Are  they  all  away  ? 
There,  don't  be  frightened,  dear!" 

Over  Shirley's  head  Jane  saw  Peter  vanish 
through  a  doorway  —  beyond  which  she  could 
see  a  mass  of  smoke  and  flame  —  slam  down  a 
window,  and  dash  out  again,  closing  the  door 
behind  him.  Then  he  was  off  down  the  stairs, 
shouting  for  help  as  he  went,  and  getting  no 
response  from  any  quarter  of  the  strangely  deserted 
house. 


38  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"Take  her  away!"  he  called  back  to  Jane, 
as  he  ran,  and  Jane  attempted  to  obey. 

"Where  are  your  clothes,  dear?"  she  asked 
the  child  in  her  arms,  but  could  get  no  coherent 
answer. 

She  looked  about  her,  and  carrying  Shirley, 
who  was  slender  and  as  light  of  weight  as  a  much 
younger  child,  soon  discovered  the  little  girl's 
room.  She  caught  up  the  pile  of  clothes  on  a 
chair,  and  attempted  to  dress  her  charge.  But 
Shirley  only  cried  and  clung.  Jane  pulled  a 
silken  blanket  from  the  little  brass  bed,  and 
wrapping  the  child  in  it,  and  rolling  her  clothes 
into  a  bundle,  which  she  tucked  under  one  arm, 
carried  her  downstairs  and  into  a  small  reception- 
room  near  the  front  entrance. 

Peter,  dashing  through  the  silent  house  toward 
the  rear,  hoping  to  come  upon  a  man-servant 
somewhere,  was  met  at  last  by  a  startled  maid. 

"A  room  upstairs  is  on  fire,"  he  said.  "Any 
men  here  to  help  me  put  it  out  ?  If  there  are  n't 
I  must  send  in  an  alarm.  Any  fire-extinguishers 
about  ?" 

The  girl's  wits  scattered  at  the  news,  but  she 
managed  to  recall  the  fact  that  the  coachman 
must  be  at  the  stable  again  by  this  time,  and 
flew  to  call  him.  Peter  ran  back  to  keep  track 
of  events.  He  saw  that  the  walls  were  heavy. 


IN  GAY  STREET  39 

that  the  fire  was  thus  far  confined  to  the  one  room, 
and  that  if  help  came  speedily  it  would  not  be 
necessary  to  call  out  the  fire  department,  an 
expedient  to  be  avoided,  he  felt  sure,  unless 
the  danger  to  the  house  was  greater  than  he 
thought. 

But  the  frightened  maid  forestalled  him  in  this 
plan.  She  ran  to  the  telephone  and  sent  in  the 
alarm  herself,  although  in  the  confusion  of  her 
fright  she  lost  some  minutes  in  getting  the  message 
properly  reported.  Meanwhile,  the  coachman 
having  arrived  to  aid  Peter,  bringing  with  him 
the  apparatus  kept  in  the  stables  for  the  purpose 
of  extinguishing  fire,  the  two  were  soon  successfully 
fighting  the  flames  without  further  aid. 

Shirley,  downstairs,  was  still  trembling  in 
Jane's  arms,  and  incoherently  crying  for  her 
brother  Murray,  who,  she  insisted,  had  not  gone 
out  with  the  others  that  evening,  but  had  been 
reading  in  the  room  which  was  now  on  fire.  At 
that  moment  Murray  himself  came  limping  in  at 
the  open  door.  The  maid  met  him  at  the  threshold. 

"O  Mr.  Murray,"  she  began  —  and  Jane,  in 
the  reception-room,  heard  her-  "the  house  is 
on  fire,  and  - 

"  What  ?  Where  ?  Where 's  Shirley  ?  Who 's " 

Jane,  with  the  child  in  her  arms,  appeared 
at  the  door  of  the  reception-room.  "She  's  here 


40  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

—  quite  safe,"  she  said;  and  with  an  exclamation, 
Murray  came  anxiously  toward  the  two.  Then 
he  paused  and  looked  up  the  staircase,  for  through 
the  distant  closed  door  upstairs  could  be  heard 
the  sounds  of  voices,  shouting  directions.  The 
maid  was  beginning  an  excited  explanation  when 
Jane  interrupted  her: 

"  My  brother  is  here,  and  he  and  your  coachman 
are  putting  it  out,  I  'm  sure." 

"  Has  anybody  sent  in  an  alarm  ?" 

"I  did,"  said  the  maid.  "The  young  man 
told  me  not  to,  but  how  did  he  know  he  could 
put  it  out  ?  And  the  master  'd  be  blamin* 
me " 

"We  don't  want  the  firemen  here  if  we  don't 
need  them,"  Murray  was  beginning,  when  the 
distant  and  familiar  clang  of  a  gong  stopped  the 
words  upon  his  lips.  In  a  moment  more  it  became 
evident  that  a  fire-engine  and  its  train  were  upon 
them.  Murray  turned  away,  and  started  hurriedly 
up  the  stairs. 

At  the  approaching  noises,  which  to  the  delicate 
child  had  always  been  peculiarly  terrifying, 
little  Shirley  began  to  cry  afresh.  Jane  gathered 
her  up  with  an  air  of  determination. 

"I  'm  going  to  take  her  to  our  house  across 
the  street,"  she  said  to  the  maid.  "There's  no 
need  of  her  staying  here  to  be  so  frightened." 


IN  GAY  STREET  41 

The  girl  made  no  remonstrance.  She  was  too 
excited  to  do  more  than  bewail  the  absence  of  the 
other  servants,  and  the  misfortune  of  her  having 
been  left  alone  in  charge.  "  I  'd  just  stepped  out  of 
the  door  a  minute,  miss,"  she  explained,  "  to  speak 
to  a  friend  of  mine  that  was  passing.  'T  was  a 
mercy  I  left  the  door  open,  or  the  young  gentleman 
couldn't  have  -  — .  There  's  the  gong!  —  There  's 
the  fire-engine!  —  Oh,  my  —  but  look  at  the  crowd 
comin'  after  'em!" 

"Show  me  a  side  door  where  I  can  slip  out, 
please,"  requested  Jane  hurriedly,  and  the  maid 
obeyed. 

As  the  firemen  ran  in  at  the  front  door,  Jane, 
with  Shirley  in  her  arms,  hurried  out  at  a  low 
side  entrance,  from  which  a  path  through  the 
shrubbery  led  to  a  gateway  in  the  high  hedge  next 
the  street. 

As  she  reached  her  own  porch,  the  rest  of  her 
family  came  rushing  out,  having  heard  the  com 
motion  in  the  street.  She  almost  ran  into  Nancy 
who  stopped  abruptly  to  stare  at  Jane's  burden. 

"Come  back  into  the  house  with  me,  Nan," 
said  Jane,  quickly.  "Here  's  our  frightened 
little  neighbour.  The  fire  will  soon  be  out,  but 
I  thought  she'd  be  happier  over  here,  for  the 
family  are  all  away." 

In  the  house  she  put  Shirley  down  upon  the 


42  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

couch  in  the  front  room,  and  the  child,  staring  up, 
her  big  eyes  full  of  tears  and  fright,  beheld  the  face 
of  the  girl  she  had  so  longed  to  know  smiling 
down  at  her. 

"This  is  splendid!"  said  Nancy  Bell.  "I've 
wanted  to  know  you  like  everything,  and  now 
I  *ve  got  you  right  here  in  my  own  house.  Won't 
you  let  me  help  you  get  dressed  ?  I  *d  love  to.** 

Seeing  that  Nancy  would  be  better  for  the  shy 
little  visitor  than  any  number  of  older  persons, 
Jane  left  the  two  together,  and  went  out  to  see 
what  was  happening. 

It  was  very  little.  The  fire-engine  was  already 
turning  to  leave,  the  driver  grumbling  at  a  needless 
alarm.  "All  out!"  a  voice  was  shouting,  and  the 
crowd  was  reluctantly  pausing  upon  the  edge  of 
the  lawn,  disappointed  that  no  further  excitement 
was  to  be  had.  Upstairs  the  firemen  had  found 
the  fire  subdued  to  a  mere  dying  smother  of  smoke, 
the  efficient  chemical  having  made  quick  work 
of  the  blaze,  which  had  not  had  time  to  attack 
the  walls  of  the  room,  but  had  been  confined  to  its 
furnishings. 

Peter,  his  hands  and  clothes  grimy,  made  light 
of  the  affair  to  Murray,  who  was  looking  in  at 
the  ruin  of  the  room. 

"  I  took  a  few  liberties  with  your  front  door," 
Peter  said,  "  finding  it  open  and  no  one  about. 


IN  GAY  STREET  43 

Oh,  no,  it  hadn't  much  headway;  I  saw  that 
when  I  decided  not  to  call  out  the  department. 
It  was  quite  a  blaze,  but  mostly  the  light  stuff 
about.  It  must  have  caught  from  the  curtains 
blowing  into  that  student-lamp." 

"That's  my  fault,"  Murray  owned.  "I  hate 
electric  lights  to  read  by,  so  I  lighted  that  lamp 
here.  I  was  reading,  but  the  room  began  to 
feel  stuffy,  and  I  opened  the  window.  It  looked 
so  pleasant  outside  I  thought  I  'd  take  a  turn 
round  the  square.  I  'm  not  a  fast  walker"  — he 
glanced  at  his  lame  leg  —  "and  I  was  probably 
at  the  other  side  of  the  square  when  you  came  in. 
Look  here,  you  must  have  been  mighty  quick  to 
take  in  the  situation,  for  I  couldn't  have  been 
away  over  five  minutes  when  you  saw  the  blaze." 

"My  sister  and  I  happened  to  be  standing  out 
on  our  porch  —  you  see,  we  live  just  round  the 
corner  in  Gay  Street  —  about  opposite  these 
windows  here  — 

"I  know,"  Murray  nodded.     "I  Ve  seen  you." 

"We  thought  at  first  it  was  a  cannel-coal  fire 
—  you  know  how  they  flash  with  a  red  light. 
But  when  we  suspected,  we  just  ran  across.  I 
hope  your  little  sister  wasn't  too  badly  frightened  ?" 

"Her  room's  next  to  this.  Poor  child,  she 
was  frightened.  I  deserve  a  thrashing,  you  know, 
for  my  carelessness.  Every  one  of  the  family  if 


44  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

out,  and  all  the  servants  except  my  mother's  maid. 
It  was  very  kind  of  your  sister  to  take  Shirley  in 
charge.  She's  downstairs  with  her  now." 

"Will  your  people  be  getting  news  of  the  fire- 
alarm  and  be  frightened  ?"  Peter  asked,  putting 
on  his  coat. 

"I  don't  think  so.  Father  and  mother  are  out 
of  town  at  a  dinner,  and  my  sister 's  at  a  party  in  a 
country  house.  They  won't  be  likely  to  hear. 
I  don't  know  where  my  brother  is.  Don't  go. 
Must  you  ?  I  —  you  know  I'm  awfully  obliged 
to  you  for  this  - 

"It's  nothing.  Glad  I  happened  to  be  on 
hand,"  and  Peter  would  have  said  good  night 
and  run  down  the  stairs,  but  he  saw  that  his  host 
meant  to  go  down  with  him.  So  he  descended 
slowly,  keeping  pace  with  the  other's  halting  steps, 
and  talking  with  him  as  he  went. 

"Your  sister  was  here  when  I  came  in,"  said 
Murray,  glancing  into  the  small  reception-room. 
The  maid,  who  had  been  watching  the  departure 
of  the  crowd  from  the  window  of  this  room, 
turned  to  him. 

"The  young  lady  took  Miss  Shirley  home 
with  her,"  she  explained.  "I  was  that  flustered 
I  let  her  go  without  so  much  as  asking  you,  Mr. 
Murray,  but " 

"It's  all  right,"  Murray  put  in,  hastily.     "It 


IN  GAY  STREET  45 

was  just  the  thing  to  do,  the  child  was  so  scared. 
If  they  're  at  your  house,  I  'II  just  step  over  there 
with  you,  if  you  don't  mind." 

"Glad  to  have  you,"  said  Peter,  wondering 
what  Jane  would  say  to  this  second  unexpected 
introduction. 

Murray,  as  he  walked  slowly  toward  the  house 
in  Gay  Street,  felt  distinctly  glad  of  the  chance. 
Since  his  illness  he  had  led  a  lonely  life,  and  he 
longed  for  comrades  near  at  hand.  From  behind 
the  curtains  he  had  done  not  a  little  watching  of 
the  coming  and  going  in  Gay  Street,  and  had 
been  strongly  attracted  toward  each  one  of  the 
household  across  the  way.  He  liked  the  faces 
of  those  people.  He  had  wished  that  he  could 
make  their  acquaintance. 

"Walk  in!"  invited  Peter,  throwing  the  door 
hospitably  open;  and  Murray,  his  quick,  curious 
eyes  taking  in  everything  at  a  glance,  entered 
the  small  front  room,  which  was  just  then  unoccu 
pied.  He  heard  voices  and  laughter  near  at  hand, 
but  for  the  moment,  while  Peter  went  to  summon 
his  mother,  he  had  time  to  look  about  him. 

There  was  not  very  much  in  the  room, 
and  there  was  nothing  of  value,  as  that  word 
was  used  in  the  Townsend  house,  yet  the  visitor 
could  not  help  finding  the  place  warmly  attractive. 
There  was  a  homelike  look  about  it,  and  there 


46  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

was  an  indefinable  air  of  refinement.  The  furniture 
was  old  and  very  nearly  shabby,  but  it  was  not 
the  cheap  and  tawdry  furniture  one  might  have 
expected  to  find  in  such  a  house.  The  pictures 
on  the  walls  were  all  good  copies  of  great  pictures, 
or  photographs  set  under  glass.  Piles  of  music 
lay  on  the  old-fashioned  square  piano,  and  a 
few  papers  and  magazines,  all  of  good  selection, 
were  upon  the  table,  in  the  centre  of  which  burned 
a  brilliant  lamp.  But  most  of  all,  the  character 
•°>£  the  household  was  shown  by  the  books  —  as 
it  inevitably  is. 

Of  these  there  were  a  surprising  number. 
Murray  felt  his  respect  for  the  Bell  family  rising 
vmmensely  as  he  noted  the  contents  of  the  rows 
of  home-made  book-shelves.  They  were  in  plain, 
worn  bindings,  most  of  them,  quite  unlike  the 
stately  rows  in  the  great  library  at  home;  but 
they  were  the  same  old  friends,  in  common  clothes, 
and  Murray  rejoiced  at  the  sight. 

Peter  was  quickly  back,  bringing  with  him 
the  lady  whom  Murray  recognised  as  the  mother 
of  the  family.  She  was  a  lady  —  no  doubt  of 
that.  He  had  been  sure  of  it  before.  Now,  as 
he  listened  to  her  voice — the  test  incontrovert 
ible —  he  knew  beyond  question. 

She  greeted  him  cordially.  He  was  charmed 
with  her  face,  with  her  manner,  with  everything 


IN  GAY  STREET  47 

about  her.  Then  Peter  brought  all  the  others  in, 
and  Murray  shook  hands  with  them  all.  Shirley 
appeared,  clinging  to  Nancy's  hands,  and  Shirley 
was  so  happy,  and  begged  so  hard  in  his  ear  to 
stay  a  few  minutes  longer,  that  he  willingly  delayed 
their  departure. 

Fine  fellows,  Peter  and  Ross  and  Rufus  proved 
to  be  on  acquaintance.  Not  in  the  least  overawed 
by  the  presence  of  the  rich  man's  son  from 
Worthington  Square,  they  talked  business  and 
football  and  politics  and  various  other  things 
in  those  few  minutes,  in  a  hearty,  half-boyish,  de 
cidedly  manly  fashion  that  he  thoroughly  enjoyed. 

It  happened  that  Murray  said  less  to  Jane 
than  to  any  of  the  others,  but  he  noticed  her  not 
a  little.  He  thought  he  had  never  seen  a  girl 
who  looked  so  spirited  and  sweet  and  gay  and 
gentle  all  in  one.  He  felt  that  his  sister  Olive 
must  learn  to  know  her  at  once,  that  she  might 
learn  what  it  is  to  be  pretty  without  seeming 
aware  of  the  fact,  and  how  it  is  possible  to  make 
a  stranger  feel  wholly  at  his  ease  without  appear 
ing  to  exercise  any  arts. 

"I  suppose  I  ought  to  be  taking  my  sister 
home,"  Murray  said  at  last,  getting  to  his  feet. 
"The  truth  »s,  she  has  wanted  to  know  Miss 
Nancy  since  she  first  saw  her,  and  so " 

"Murray    wanted    to    know   you,    too,"    said 


48  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

Shirley,  in  Nancy's  ear;  but  as  her  brother  paused, 
the  words  were  audible  to  everybody. 

"To  know  me?"  queried  Nancy,  in  surprise, 
and  everybody  smiled. 

"  I  'm  sure  my  mother  and  sister  will  call  — 
soon,"  said  Murray,  trying  to  feel  sure  of  that 
rather  doubtful  proposition  as  he  made  it. 

The  moment  would  have  been  an  awkward 
one  in  some  small  houses,  for  it  was  impossible 
not  to  remember  that  the  Worthington  Squares 
do  not  make  many  calls  in  the  Gay  Streets,  but 
young  Rufus,  studying  Shirley  with  interest, 
broke  in,  without  intention,  upon  his  mother's 
reply.  Rufus  was  quite  untroubled  by  the  social 
inequalities  existing  between  localities  divided 
only  by  a  stone's  throw. 

"That  's  a  dandy  tennis-court  you  will  have 
there  when  you  put  it  out,"  he  remarked. 

"  It  's  pretty  fair  —  and  we  shall  have  it  in 
shape  early  this  year,"  replied  Murray,  smiling. 
There  was  a  beauty  about  Murray's  rare  smile 
which  quite  transformed  his  pale  face.  His  eyes 
met  Jane's  as  he  spoke. 

"It  's  too  bad  to  grow  up  past  the  point  of 
breaking  the  ice  so  easily,  is  n't  it  ?"  she  said, 
merrily,  as  he  shook  hands. 

"We  '11  have  to  follow  their  wise  example,*1 
he  replied. 


IN  GAY  STREET  49 

"  I  hope  that  you  '11  find  your  way  over  to  Gay 
Street  often  in  the  future,"  declared  Peter,  shaking 
hands. 

"  I  mean  to,  thank  you,  if  you  '11  let  me  ?" 
Murray  looked  into  Mrs.  Bell's  eyes,  and  a  shade 
of  wistfulness  crept  into  his  own,  which  she  saw, 
and  recognising,  was  sure  she  understood. 

"  Please  come,  if  you  care  to,"  she  said,  cordially, 
and  he  felt  her  warm,  firm  hand  give  his  a  friendly 
pressure,  which  quite  completed  the  capturing  of 
his  heart. 

A  ringing  step  on  the  porch  outside,  a  knock 
at  the  door  — it  boasted  no  bell  — and  everybody 
looked  up  surprised,  for  it  was  nearly  ten  o'clock. 
Ross  opened  the  door. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  a  gay  and  careless 
voice  outside,  "  but  I  came  to  look  for  my  brother 
and  sister.  They  seem  to  be  lost,  and  I  'm 
told  they  're  here." 

"Come  in!"  said  Ross,  and  the  owner  of  the 
voice  appeared  upon  the  threshold.  Standing 
there,  surveying  the  company  with  his  character 
istically  assured  expression,  his  handsome  face 
taking  on  a  saucy  smile  as  his  eyes  fell  on  his 
brother,  Forrest  Townsend  was  carefully  and 
formally  presented  by  Murray  to  each  one  of 
the  household  in  turn. 

He  looked  a  fine  figure  in  his  evening  clothes, 


50  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

his  long,outer  coat  falling  open,  his  hat  in  his  hand. 
His  audacious  young  eyes  fell  on  Jane  before 
he  was  presented  to  her,  and  his  manner  acquired 
a  sort  of  laughing  gallantry  rather  effective. 
"It  was  a  very  lucky  fire  for  us,"  he  said,  gaily, 
as  he  bowed.  "I  only  wish  I  had  been  at  home.'s 


CHAPTER  IV 

FORREST  PLAYS  A  TRICK 

IT'S  no  more  than  civil,  mother,  that  you 
and  Olive  should  go  over  and  call!"  insisted 
Murray  Townsend,  with  heat. 

"I  can't  see  that  it  is  necessary  at  all,"  replied 
Mrs.  Townsend,  with  offsetting  coolness.  "The 
young  man  has  been  properly  thanked  for  his 
services;  indeed,  I  should  say  that  between  you 
and  Forrest  and  Shirley  the  entire  family  have 
had  quite  fuss  enough  made  over  them." 

"  I  did  n't  make  much  of  the  fuss,"  Forrest 
said.  "I  was  only  there  five  minutes  at  the 
end  of  the  show.  Time  enough  to  see,  though, 
that  those  people  are  n't  off  the  same  piece  as 
the  usual  tenants  of  that  house.  They  've  seen 
better  days,  or  I  miss  my  guess." 

"Not  at  all.  They  've  never  had  much 
money,  but  they  're  educated  people,  just  the 
same  —  self-educated,  a  mighty  good  sort. 
You  've  only  to  look  at  the  books  that  fairly 
line  that  little  room  to  see  for  yourself.  Is  n't 
there  any  rule  for  sizing  up  men  but  by  the  dollars 

Si 


52  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

they  Ve  made — or  women  but  by  the  clothes  they 
wear  ? " 

The  vehemence  of  Murray's  speech  was  so 
unusual,  and  his  ordinarily  quiet  and  indifferent 
expression  had  given  place  to  one  so  eager,  that 
the  family  all  turned  with  one  accord  to  look  at 
him.  They  were  at  dinner,  one  late  April  evening, 
a  week  after  the  fire.  The  dining-room  was 
the  one  place  in  the  house  where  all  the  family 
were  accustomed  to  meet;  therefore  any  question 
of  the  sort  which  Murray  had  proposed  was 
brought  up  there  as  a  matter  of  course. 

Mr.  Townsend  himself  answered  his  son's 
pointed  observation,  forestalling  the  rejoinder 
about  to  fall  from  his  wife's  lips: 

"It's  the  way  of  the  world,  Murray,  and  an 
unjust  one  in  many  cases.  Still,  one  can't  help 
feeling  that  a  man  who  has  lived  to  the  age  of 
Joseph  Bell  without  reaching  a  position  higher 
than  the  one  he  holds  with  the  Armstrong  Com 
pany  can't  be  possessed  of  a  very  unusual 
endowment  of  brains." 

"I  should  say  that  depends  on  whether  making 
money  has  been  his  ambition,  or  something  else." 

"He  certainly  hasn't  achieved  the  something 
else,"  was  Olive's  comment.  "Not  even  a  decent 
home." 

"Decent!"     Murray  turned  on   her.     "It's  a 


IN  GAY  STREET  53 

home  worthy  the  name  —  I  can  tell  you  that? 
And  if  you  refuse  to  call  on  these  people  that  live 
in  it,  after  Peter  Bell  saved  ours  over  our  heads, 
I  say  you  're  acting  like  snobs!" 

"Murray!"  His  mother  spoke  very  sharply. 
Forrest  laughed.  He  enjoyed  the  scene,  being 
inclined,  by  his  remembrance  of  Jane,  to  take  his 
brother's  side.  Mr.  Townsend  came  to  the  rescue. 

"You  are  rather  rough  in  your  language,  Murray, 
but  I  think  you  are  right  in  your  notions  about 
the  call.  It 's  only  a  courtesy,  surely,  Eloise, 
to  go  over  and  make  one  call.  You  don't  need 
to  continue  the  acquaintance  unless  you  wish, 
but  I  should  be  glad  myself  if  you  would  go. 
It  is  several  days  now  since  - 

"It's  a  week,"  said  Murray. 

"He  knows  —  no  doubt  of  that!"  laughed 
Forrest.  "  He 's  cultivated  the  acquaintance, 
anyhow.  I  saw  him  walking  up  the  street  yester 
day  with  the  pretty  girl  of  the  family." 

"You  walked  up  with  her  yourself  the  day 
before!"  cried  Shirley. 

Forrest  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed. 
"You  're  a  little  spy.  Well,  I  don't  mind  owning 
that  I  did.  She's  a  trim-looking  girl  on  the  street, 
too,  if  she  does  n't  wear  the  furbelows  Olive 
does.  She  - 

"We  may  as  well  go  over  and  call,  mother," 


54  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

said  Olive,  with  emphasis.  "If  both  the  boys 
are  running  after  the  family,  we  ought  to  find 
out  what  they  are." 

"You  won't  be  so  condescending  as  you  think, >; 
Murray  said  to  her,  as  he  left  the  room  at  her  side. 
"Mrs.  Bell  is  n't  the  sort  to  be  impressed  with  the 
honour  you  do  her." 

Mrs.  Townsend  and  Olive,  realising  that  the 
wishes  of  the  three  male  members  of  the  family 
were  not  to  be  lightly  disregarded,  made  the  call 
without  further  delay.  Dressed  as  carefully  as 
if  they  had  been  calling  in  Worthington  Square, 
they  knocked  upon  the  door  of  the  little  house 
in  Gay  Street,  and  were  admitted  by  Nancy. 

It  chanced  that  this  was  a  Saturday  afternoon. 
And  Saturday  was  a  half-holiday  for  nearly  all 
workers  in  the  city.  Thus  it  came  about  that  in 
the  middle  of  the  stiff  little  call  —  stiff  in  spite 
of  Mrs.  Bell  and  Jane,  who  had  received  their 
visitors  with  all  simplicity  and  naturalness  — 
Peter  arrived  at  home.  Being  burdened  with 
small  parcels,  he  hurried  round  to  the  kitchen  door, 
and  depositing  his  parcels  on  the  table  there, 
started  in  search  of  his  sisters. 

"  Jane  —  Nan  —  where  are  you  ?"  he  shouted 
through  the  little  house,  and  before  Nancy, 
springing  down  the  stairs,  could  stop  him,  he  had 
bolted  into  the  front  room. 


IN  GAY  STREET  55 

Olive  Townsend,  turning  quickly,  recognised 
the  big,  fresh-coloured  youth,  with  the  good- 
humoured,  clever-looking  face,  who  had  several 
times  been  of  assistance  to  her.  Peter  was  pre 
sented  to  the  visitors  by  his  mother,  who  seemed 
quite  undisturbed  by  the  interruption.  Jane 
only  laughed,  and  Peter  himself  recovered  his 
balance  with  but  a  momentary  show  of  confusion. 

"It  was  important  business,  you  see,"  he  said, 
smiling,  and  explaining  to  Jane.  "I  brought 
home  the  flower-seeds  you  wanted,  and  I  had 
an  idea  they  must  get  into  the  ground  within 
the  next  fifteen  minutes,  or  it  would  be  too  late/' 

"I  don't  wonder  he  thought  so,"  Jane  said 
K>  Olive,  glancing  from  her  brother  to  her  guest. 
"I  impressed  upon  him  this  morning  the  fact 
that  if  the  sweet  peas  were  n't  planted  to-day 
we  should  n't  have  any  growing  before  August. 
Don't  go,  Peter.  Perhaps  Miss  Townsend  can 
tell  us  what  else  we  ought  to  have  in  our  garden." 

Peter  obediently  drew  up  a  chair  and  sat  down. 

Olive,  responding  that  she  knew  nothing 
whatever  about  gardens,  because  the  gardener 
always  attended  to  whatever  flower-beds  there 
were  about  the  grounds,  was  conscious  of  a  keen 
and  steady  scrutiny  from  Peter's  cool  gray  eyes, 
quite  as  if  he  were  not  in  the  least  abashed  by 
her  distinguished  presence. 


56  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

She  was,  moreover,  forced  to  acknowledge, 
as  the  moments  went  by,  that  Peter  could  talk, 
and  talk  well.  He  came  to  the  assistance  of 
Jane,  who  had  begun  to  feel  the  difficulties  of 
entertaining  the  visitor,  and  told  an  amusing 
incident  of  the  morning's  experience.  Before 
she  knew  it,  Olive  was  laughing,  for  Peter's  clever 
mimicry  was  quite  irresistible. 

As  she  rose  to  go  Olive  made  an  immense  con* 
descension:  "I  believe  it  must  have  been  you, 
Mr.  Bell,"  she  said,  "who  picked  up  my  hand 
kerchief  for  me  one  day." 

Peter  laid  his  hand  on  his  heart  with  a  droll 
gesture  and  a  formal  bow  —  an  interesting  com 
bination.—  "I  think  I  had  the  honour,"  he 
admitted,  with  a  twinkle. 

And  now  something  unforeseen  happened. 
Exactly  as  the  visitors  rose  to  go,  the  April  skies, 
which  five  minutes  before  had  been  smiling, 
suddenly  opened,  and  poured  out  one  of  those 
astonishing  spring  downfalls  which  arrest  street 
traffic  on  the  instant. 

Mrs.  Townsend  and  Olive,  with  the  door  opening 
to  let  them  out,  stood  still  upon  the  threshold  in  dis 
may,  glancing  down  at  their  delicate  spring  attire. 

"You  can't  go  in  this,"  said  Mrs.  Bell,  cor 
dially.  "It  will  be  over  soon.  Please  come 
back  and  sit  down/' 


IN  GAY  STREET  57 

"The  fates  must  surely  have  intended  from 
the  first  to  mix  up  things  between  these  two 
families  of  Townsend  and  Bell.  With  that  end 
in  view  nothing  could  have  been  more  opportune 
than  this  shower,  for  it  lasted  a  good  half-hour 
without  showing  signs  of  slackening,  and  it 
contributed  also  lightning  and  thunder,  which 
made  Olive  shrink  and  shudder.  Also  Ross, 
McAndrew  and  young  Rufus  Bell,  coming  home 
in  the  late  afternoon,  and  being  caught  at  the 
corner  in  the  downpour,  dashed  for  the  little  front 
porch  for  shelter,  and  then  into  the  living-room. 

Ross,  making  apologies  on  account  of  his 
moist  condition,  and  getting  through  the  room 
and  out  with  Rufus  as  fast  as  possible,  was 
yet  able  to  take  in  the  surprising  fact  that  Peter 
was  sitting  in  the  corner  with  the  girl  from  the 
aristocratic  square,  chatting  cheerfully  with  her. 
and  eliciting  not  altogether  unwilling  smiles  in 
response. 

Out  in  the  kitchen,  with  the  door  closed,  Ross 
and  Rufus  interviewed  Nancy. 

"How  on  earth  did  old  Peter  get  into  it  like 
this?"  Ross  inquired,  as  he  hung  his  coat  to 
dry  by  the  stove.  "I  could  hardly  believe  my 
eyes  to  see  him  confabulating  with  Miss  Worth- 
ington  Square.  She  seems  quite  human,  does  n't 
she  —  when  you  set  her  indoors  ?" 


58  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Nancy.  "  I  only  let  them 
in.  She  looks  awfully  pretty,  don't  you  think  ? 
And  maybe  she's  nice  when  you  get  to  know  her." 

"If  you  ever  do,"  qualified  Ross.  "Pretty? 
Well,  all  I  saw  was  a  gorgeous  hat  and  a  pair  of 
big  eyes;  I  felt  as  if  somebody  was  looking  at  me 
with  a  spy-glass.  She  is  n't  in  it  with  our  Janey, 
if  you  're  talking  about  prettiness." 

"No,  of  course  not!"  cried  loyal  Nancy. 

By  the  time  the  storm  had  ceased,  a  good 
deal  of  the  stiffness  in  the  little  front  room  had 
melted  away.  It  may  be  possible  for  some  people 
to  be  formal  and  frigid  for  the  space  of  9  te*>~ 
minute  call,  but  to  keep  it  up  for  full  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour  longer,  while  rain  pours,  and 
lightning  flashes,  and  unconventional  young  per 
sons  dash  in  and  out,  and  a  youth  like  Peter 
tells  jolly  stories  —  that  becomes  much  more 
difficult.  Mrs.  Townsend  maintained  a  peculiar 
dignity  to  the  end,  but  Olive  —  well,  in  spite 
of  her  prejudices,  Olive  was  young,  and  liked 
young  associates,  and  as  she  looked  and  listened, 
it  became  more  and  more  difficult  for  her  to  refuse 
to  recognise  that  the  people  in  this  little  house 
were  not  ordinary,  not  commonplace,  not  unedu 
cated,  as  she  had  fancied  them,  but  bright,  and 
gay,  and  interesting. 

When  she  gave  Jane  her  hand,  as  she  took 


IN  GAY  STREET  59 

tier  leave  —  the  April  storm  having  at  last  given 
place  again  to  brilliant  April  sunshine  —  she 
found  herself  wishing  she  might  know  this  pre 
possessing  maid.  There  was  a  straightforward 
sweetness  in  the  glance  of  Jane's  rich  hazel  eyes, 
a  captivating  charm  in  her  free  smile,  which  the 
other  girl  had  never  encountered  in  quite  so 
beguiling  a  form.  Olive  Townsend,  of  all  the 
girls  whom  Jane  had  ever  met  least  likely  to 
succumb  to  the  fascinations  of  another  girl  not 
in  her  own  "set,"  fell,  nevertheless,  considerably 
under  Jane's  influence  on  that  very  first  encounter. 
In  taking  leave  she  said  to  Jane  that  which  she 
had  not  dreamed  of  saying,  commonplace  an 
expression  of  friendliness  as  it  was:  "I  shall 
hope  to  see  you  often,  since  we  live  so  near." 

"  Gone  —  gone  —  all  gone  ? "  queried  Ross, 
putting  in  his  head  cautiously  at  the  living-room 
door,  as  the  visitors  turned  the  corner. 

"All  gone,"  replied  Peter.  "Gone  forever 
—  silks  and  velvets  and  new  spring  hats." 

"'Ribbons  and  laces,  and  sweet,  pretty  faces,"1 

chanted  Ross,  reminded  of  the  old  child-rhyme. 

* '  Sugar  and  spice,  and  everything  nice.'  Not  much 

sugar  about  Miss  Worthington  Square,  eh,  Pete  ?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  mused  Peter,  gazing 
absently  out  of  the  window  toward  the  square, 
where  Olive's  spring  finery  was  just  fluttering  out 


60  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

of  sight.  "She  's  not  so  bad  at  close  range.  I 
should  n't  wonder  if  an  earthquake  shock  might 
stir  her  up  into  quite  an  interesting  girl.  Lack 
ing  that,  some  lesser  convulsion  of  nature  might 
possibly 

"The  Bell  family  certainly  did  their  best 
to  shock  her.  If  daddy  and  Nan  could  have 
just  burst  in  from  somewhere,  I  think  the  effect 
would  have  been  complete,"  declared  Jane, 
merrily. 

The  subject  of  these  comments,  upon  reaching 
home,  found  herself  called  upon  for  an  opinion 
of  the  Bells. 

Forrest  Townsend,  encountering  his  sister 
upon  the  stairs,  followed  her  to  her  room. 

"Own  up  that  they're  not  as  odd  as  you 
thought,"  he  demanded. 

"  They  're  very  well  —  of  their  sort,"  was 
Olive's  reply,  observing  herself  in  her  mirror, 
and  congratulating  herself  on  the  fact  that  the 
new  spring  hat  was  undoubtedly  becoming. 

"See  here,  why  not  send  Jane  and  Peter  an 
invitation  to  your  party?" 

"'Jane  and  Peter!'  You  seem  to  be  pretty 
intimate  with  them  already." 

"I  don't  call  them  that  to  their  faces.  But 
you  've  ceen  for  yourselves  they  're  all  right. 
Ask  them  over;  it  won't  hurt  you." 


IN  GAY  STREET  61 

"Why,  Forrest  Townsend  —  people  who  don't 
know  a  soul  in  our  set!  What  an  idea!" 

"A  mighty  good  idea.  Nobody  '11  know  they 
live  in  Gay  Street  —  and  you  won't  be  ashamed 
of  them  either." 

"I  shall  not  do  anything  of  the  sort."  Olive 
took  off  the  hat  and  laid  it  in  its  box.  "  I  don't 
know  what  in  the  world  has  got  into  you  and 
Murray;  you  're  both  perfectly  mad  over  the 
Bells.  If  you  're  so  charmed  with  that  girl 
ycu  can  go  and  call  on  her,  I  suppose." 

She  recalled  with  some  surprise  her  own  lik 
ing  for  Jane,  wondering,  now  that  her  brother 
showed  his  prepossessions  so  strongly,  how  she 
could  have  fancied  her.  It  seemed  sometimes 
to  be  a  matter  of  principle  with  Olive  never  to  like 
the  people  whom  Forrest  or  Murray  liked. 

"See  here,"  said  Forrest,  frowning,  "I  think 
it 's  pretty  ill-natured  of  you  not  to  invite  one 
or  two  persons  I  ask  you  to,  whether  you  happen 
to  want  them  or  not.  This  party  may  be  your 
birthday  affair,  but  there  's  no  reason  why  some 
body  else  should  n't  have  a  hand  in  the  in 
viting.  Let 's  see  your  list,  will  you  ?" 

Olive  unwillingly  handed  him  a  sheet  of  paper, 
upon  which  the  names  of  her  prospective  guests 
were  written.  He  scanned  it  sharply. 

"Same   old   crowd,"   he   observed,   his   hand* 


62  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

some  brows  knit  into  a  scowl.  "I  should  think 
you  *d  want  a  little  fresh  blood,  to  liven  things  up/* 

"For  you  to  sit  in  a  corner  with,  you  mean." 

"Will  you  do  it  to  please  me  ?" 

"No!"  Olive  snatched  the  list  out  of  his  hand 
and  returned  it  to  a  box,  which  she  laid  in  a 
drawer  of  her  desk. 

Forrest  stood  looking  at  her  for  a  moment,  then, 
without  a  further  word,  shrugged  his  shoulders 
and  walked  out  of  the  room. 

Two  hours  later  he  came  quietly  back.  Olive 
had  gone  out,  as  he  knew.  He  crossed  the 
room  to  the  desk,  searched  and  found  the  box 
into  which  he  had  seen  the  list  put,  and  discov 
ered,  as  he  had  expected,  the  invitations  to  the 
birthday  party  folded  and  partially  addressed. 
He  knew  that  they  were  to  go  out  upon  the 
morrow,  and  that  Olive  doubtless  would  finish 
the  task  of  addressing  them  that  evening.  He 
had  heard  her  bewailing  the  fact  that  this  labour 
consumed  so  much  time,  but  he  had  not  cared 
to  offer  to  assist  her. 

Forrest  looked  the  invitations  over,  smiling  to 
himself,  took  out  two  unaddressed  envelopes 
and  put  them  into  his  pocket,  closed  the  door 
and  strolled  away.  In  his  own  room  he  took 
them  out  again,  and  wrote  upon  them  in  his 
best  hand,  "Peter  Bell,  Esq.,"  and  "Miss  Jane 


IN  GAY  STREET  63 

Bell/*  adding  the  street  and  number,  and  stamp 
ing  and  sealing  them,  still  with  the  laugh  in  the 
corners  of  his  mischievous  mouth. 

The  next  day,  when  Olive's  invitations  went 
into  the  letter-box  on  the  corner,  they  were 
shortly  followed  by  two  of  which  the  giver  of 
the  party  had  no  knowledge. 

It  happened  that  the  early  morning  mail  in 
Gay  Street  always  arrived  just  before  the  departure 
of  the  family  workers  for  their  place  of  business. 
So  when  Nancy,  after  answering  the  postman's 
ring,  came  back  to  the  table  with  the  mail,  both 
Peter  and  Jane,  just  finishing  breakfast,  were 
on  hand  to  receive  it. 

"Whose  handwriting  can  this  be,  I  wonder?" 
speculated  Jane,  intently  studying  the  dashing 
address. 

Peter  glanced  over  her  shoulder.  "Same  as 
mine,"  he  observed,  ripping  his  envelope  open. 
"Looks  like  a  wedding  invitation;  but  since  none 
of  our  friends,  Janey,  are  so  much  as  thinking 
of  getting  married  — •  Hello,  what  's  this  ?" 

"Oh,  why-  Jane  was  stammering,  eagerly. 
"O  Petey  —  how  lovely  —  why-  There,  I 
knew  she  was  n't  as  cold  and  proud  as  you  thought 
her!" 

"Who — -what?"  demanded  Nancy,  with  ex* 
citement. 


64  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"Miss  Olive  Townsend,"  explained  Jane, 
flushing  with  pleasure. 

"What!  Miss  Worthington  Square  invited 
you  two  every-day  folks  to  her  party  ? "  Ross 
inquired,  getting  up  from  the  table  and  reaching 
for  his  hat.  "  Pete,  you  '11  lose  your  car  if  you 
stand  mooning  over  that  thing." 

"  How  did  you  know  she  was  to  have  a  party  ?" 

"Little  Miss  Shirley  confided  it  to  me." 

"Me,  too!"  cried  Nancy,  proudly.  "But 
she  did  n't  tell  me  her  sister  would  ask  you." 

"  Miss  Olive  probably  did  n't  intend  to," 
hazarded  Peter,  folding  up  his  note  and  putting 
it  carefully  in  his  pocket,  "until  she  came  to  call 
and  saw  our  charms.  She  came  —  she  saw  —  we 
conquered  —  eh,  Janey  ? —  with  our  sweet  smiles 
and  our  stories.  How  about  it,  sister  ?  Do  we  go  ?" 

"If,"  began  Jane  slowly,  the  smile  fading 
a  little  on  her  bright  face,  "if 

"If  —  we've  anything  to  wear!"  supplied  Ross, 
and  began  to  whistle  gaily.  "0/z,  ye  shall  walk 
in  silk  attire"  breaking  off  to  glance  at  the  clock 
and  start  hastily  for  the  door,  with  Peter  and 
Rufus  after  him.  Jane  turned  to  Mrs.  Bell, 
who,  sitting  quietly  in  her  place  at  the  head  of 
the  table,  was  regarding  her  young  daughter  as 
if  she  understood  all  the  doubts  which  had 
instantly  risen  in  the  girl's  mind. 


IN  GAY  STREET  65 

"I  think  we  can  manage  it,  dear,'*  she  said, 
"if  the  party  dress  does  n't  have  to  match  the 
invitation." 

Jane's  face  grew  flushed  again.  "I  can  wear 
anything,  mother,  if  I  have  some  fresh  ribbons. 
But  Peter " 

"Yes  —  Peter  — "  agreed  Mrs.  Bell.  She  rose 
and  came  round  to  Jane.  "Peter  shall  have 
a  new  cravat,"  said  she,  and  smiled  into  Jane's 
eyes. 

Jane  smiled  back.  Each  knew  that  the  other 
was  thinking  of  Peter's  best  black  suit  —  iv 
which  he  went  to  church  on  Sundays.  Each 
knew  that  the  Townsend  sons  would  wear  evening 
clothes. 

"Yes,  with  a  new  cravat  Petey  will  be  aH 
right,"  said  Jane.  "Dear  boy,  he  was  pleased, 
was  n't  he  ?  And  it  is  nice  of  her  to  ask  us!" 


CHAPTER  V 

WITHOUT  GLOVES 

OJANE,  the  big  porch  is  all  shut  in  with 
white  stuff,  and  there  's  a  striped  awning 
where  the  carriages  stop,  just  as  if  it  was  a  great 
grown-up  party  or  a  wedding.  And  I  saw  them 
carrying  in  loads  of  palms  and  things.  Oh, 
are  n't  you  excited  to  be  going  ?" 

This  was  Nancy  Bell,  flying  into  the  front  room 
upstairs,  where  Mrs.  Bell  and  Jane  were  putting 
the  finishing  touches  to  Jane's  frock,  to  be  worn 
that  evening. 

"Awfully  excited,  darling,"  admitted  Jane, 
smiling  at  the  eager  little  sister. 

"Oh,  how  pretty  that  is!"  Nancy  clasped 
her  hands  in  ecstasy  over  the  dainty  ruffled  skirt, 
with  its  tiny  yellow  flowers  scattered  over  a  white 
ground.  Then  she  caught  up  the  long  sash  belt 
of  primrose-yellow  ribbon,  its  graceful  rosettes 
and  flowing  ends  promising  an  effective  finish  to 
the  simple  toilet.  "You  '11  be  the  prettiest  girl 
at  the  party!"  she  declared,  joyously. 

Mrs.  Bell  and  Jane  laughed  across  at  each 
66 


IN  GAY  STREET  67 

other.  "In  a  ten-cent  dimity,"  their  eyes  said, 
with  congratulations,  "reduced  from  eighteen!*' 

"My  ribbon  is  what  rejoices  my  soul,'*  said 
Jane,  touching  the  soft  silk.  "That  was  a 
bargain  we  just  happened  on  —  the  price  cut 
in  two  because  of  a  few  soiled  places.  We  simply 
did  n't  use  those  at  all,  and  there  were  enough  long 
lengths  to  make  the  streamers.  It 's  such  a  beau 
tiful  quality  it  makes  the  whole  dress  look  finer 
than  it  is." 

"  How  can  you  ever  wait  till  evening  ?"  sighed 
Nancy.  "O  Jane,  Shirley  wants  me  to  hide  in 
the  shrubbery  over  there  by  the  hedge,  and  she's 
going  to  slip  out  with  some  ice-cream  and  cake 
for  me!" 

Mrs.  Bell*s  eyes  and  Jane*s  met  again  with 
n  smile.  Jane's  eyebrows  went  up  in  interrogation. 
Mrs.  Bell  nodded.  "I  think  Nancy  may  have 
that  much  of  the  party,"  she  said. 

Evening  came  at  last,  although  Nancy  had 
moments  of  feeling  sure  that  it  never  would. 
Jane,  her  curly  auburn  locks  tied  up  in  charming 
fashion,  with  various  rebellious  tendrils  waving 
about  her  face,  slipped  into  the  pretty  frock,  and 
Mrs.  Bell  arranged  the  primrose  girdle,  which  set 
off  the  whole  effect.  Peter,  in  his  best  black 
suit  and  wearing  the  new  cravat,  looked  at  his 
sister  approvingly. 


68  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"  My,  but  I  'm  proud  of  my  girl ! "  he  said. 

"Not  prouder  than  I  am  of  my  big  brother,** 
responded  Jane. 

The  family  saw  them  off,  rejoicing  in  their 
youthful  good  looks,  and  sure  they  would  hold 
their  own  in  appearance  with  anybody  in  Worth- 
ington  Square.  Peter  and  Jane,  not  feeling  quite 
so  confident,  yet  experiencing  a  pleasant  stir 
of  anticipation,  walked  slowly  round  the  corner. 

Nearly  all  the  guests  were  arriving  in  carriages, 
and  the  brother  and  sister,  as  they  crossed  the 
porch,  encountered  a  number  of  these,  entering 
from  the  porte-cochere.  As  Jane's  eyes  fell  upon 
the  gaily  dressed  young  people,  the  first  thing 
she  observed  about  them  gave  her  an  unplesant 
shock.  They  all,  youths  and  girls,  were  wearing 
gloves.  Jane  glanced  from  her  own  round  white 
arms,  bare  from  the  elbows,  to  Peter's  uncovered 
hands. 

"Peter,  we  never  once  thought  of  gloves," 
she  murmured  in  his  ear,  as  they  lingered  to  let 
the  party  from  the  carriages  go  in  at  the  door 
ahead  of  them. 

Peter  stared  from  her  to  the  other  guests. 
Then  his  gay  twinkle  replaced  the  look  of  dis 
may.  "  Gloves  —  on  youngsters  like  us !  Don't 
you  care  a  bit,"  he  whispered  back  in  her  ear. 

It  was  a  little  difficult  not  to  care,  especially 


IN  GAY  STREET  69 

for  Jane,  as  in  the  dressing-room  upstairs  she 
met  many  curious  glances.  The  maid  in  charge 
even  offered  to  help  her  put  on  her  gloves,  and 
Jane  could  not  help  feeling  a  bit  unhappy  as 
she  replied  that  she  was  not  wearing  gloves. 

But  the  sight  of  Peter,  smiling  serenely  at  her 
from  the  head  of  the  staircase,  where  he  awaited 
her,  strengthened  her  resolution  not  to  mind. 
A  glance  at  the  mirror  had  assured  her  that  the 
inexpensive  little  dimity  with  its  primrose  ribbons 
was  irreproachable  in  its  dainty  distinction  of 
style  —  thanks  to  Mrs.  Bell's  clever  fingers  —  and 
this  knowledge  was  very  comforting.  Her  face 
was  as  bright  as  ever  when  she  joined  Peter,  whose 
hearty  whisper:  "You  're  all  right!"  put  her 
quite  on  her  feet  again. 

Downstairs,  where  Olive  Townsend  stood 
receiving  with  her  mother,  with  Forrest  and 
Murray  close  at  hand,  a  brief  but  interesting 
colloquy  took  place  just  before  Jane  and  Peter 
came  into  the  reception  room.  Forrest  had  been 
keeping  sharp  watch  on  the  hall  entrance,  and 
the  moment  that  he  saw  the  two  Bells  arrive 
and  make  their  way  toward  the  staircase,  he 
watched  for  a  chance  to  get  a  word  in  the 
ears  of  his  family.  A  lull  in  the  arrivals  gave 
him  his  opportunity. 

"Olive,"  he  said  coolly  to  his  sister  in  an  under- 


;o  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

tone,  "I  took  the  liberty  of  sending  Jane  and 
Peter  Bell  an  invitation  —  and  they  're  here. 
I  want  you  to  brace  up  and  give  them  just  as  nice 
a  welcome  as  you  're  giving  the  rest.  Hold  on! 
If  you  're  angry  at  anybody,  it 's  at  me,  and 
you  Ve  no  right  to  take  it  out  of  them  for  that. 
One  thing  I  can  tell  you;  if  you  are  frosty  to 
them  you  '11  settle  with  me  afterward." 

He  had  his  sister  in  a  corner  —  so  to  speak. 
Olive  cared  very  much  for  appearances.  There 
were  many  eyes  upon  her;  she  could  make  no 
angry  response  or  show  chagrin  in  any  way 
without  attracting  notice  and  comment.  All 
she  could  do  —  which  she  promptly  did  —  was 
to  whisper  back,  with  lips  which  smiled  for  the 
sake  of  those  who  looked  at  her: 

"You  wretch,  I  '11  pay  you  off  —  never  fear!" 

"Do;  I  don't  mind,"  and  Forrest  approached 
his  mother.  He  was  her  favourite  son,  and  she 
was  a  thorough  woman  of  the  world.  He  had 
reckoned  on  her  making  the  best  of  the  situa 
tion  ;  and  when  he  had  told  her,  with  a  gay  glance 
and  a  furtive  squeeze  of  her  hand,  he  received 
no  more  severe  threat  of  punishment  than  he 
had  expected  in  her  light:  "You  naughty  boy! 
You  '11  have  to  take  care  of  them;  nobody  else 
knows  them,  or  will  care  to." 

"I'll    see    to    them,"    was    her    son's    careless 


IN  GAY  STREET  71 

reply,  and  he  crossed  over  to  Murray,  who  was 
indifferently  playing  his  part  of  young  host. 
To  him,  as  Jane  and  Peter  appeared  at  the 
doorway,  Forrest  made  a  hasty  explanation. 

Murray's  face  instantly  brightened,  and  he 
answered  promptly:  "It  was  a  risky  thing  to  do, 
but  I  'm  glad  they  're  here.  Between  us  we  '11 
make  sure  they  have  a  good  time." 

There  was  nothing  in  the  greeting  of  Mrs. 
Townsend  or  of  Olive  to  give  Peter  and  Jane  a 
hint  of  their  position.  The  Bells  had  expected 
only  a  formal  reception  on  an  occasion  like  this, 
and  when  they  received  it,  felt  no  special  lack 
And  whatever  was  wanting  in  the  greeting  of  th* 
hostesses  was  made  up  by  the  masculine  half  of  the 
receiving  party. 

"This  is  jolly,"  said  Forrest,  giving  each  a  hearty 
grasp  of  the  hand.  "I  'm  immensely  glad  you 
could  come,"  and  as  others  pressed  toward  him,  he 
passed  them  on  to  Murray. 

"Do  you  know,"  said  Murray,  "having  you 
two  come  to-night  makes  up  to  me  for  the  whole 
thing.  I  detest  parties,  as  a  rule,  never  go  to  them, 
and  would  n't  come  downstairs  at  our  own  affairs 
if  I  could  get  out  of  it.  But  I  'm  glad  I  could  n't 
— this  time — .  See  here,  you  don't  know  many 
of  these  people,  do  you  ?" 

"Nobody  at  all." 


72  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"  Of  course  not  —  having  only  just  moved  into  the 
neighbourhood.  I  can't  do  much  myself  except 
sit  about  and  look  on,  and  I  'm  going  to  be  so 
bold  as  to  beg  your  company,  Miss  Bell,  for  so 
much  of  the  evening  as  you  '11  give  me.  There  are 
a  lot  of  pleasant  nooks  about  the  rooms  and  halls, 
and  I  'd  like  to  try  them  all  with  you.  That 's 
a  selfish  plan,  is  n't  it  ?"  and  he  smiled  at  her. 

"  It 's  lovely  of  you,  of  course,  and  you  know 
it,'*  she  answered. 

"  It 's  a  risk  for  me,  lest  I  lose  you,  but  I  '11 
present  a  few  of  these  chaps  to  you,  first,  so  if 
you  care  to  dance  - 

"I  don't  — truly." 

"  I  'm  glad.  But  I  '11  do  it,  for  the  sake  of  my  con 
science,"  and  Murray  began  the  task  on  the  spot. 

Half  a  dozen  youths  accordingly  bowed  cere 
moniously  to  Jane,  gazed  with  interest  at  her 
charming  face,  said  something  or  other  in  the  way 
of  an  attempt  at  conversation,  and  got  away  again. 
Not  one  asked  Jane  to  dance. 

"She  needs  Olive's  guardianship,  not  mine," 
thought  Murray,  resentfully.  "If  Olive  backed 
her  up,  the  rest  would  accept  her  in  a  jiffy.  But 
Olive  won't  do  it  —  I  know  that  well  enough, 
• —  so  I  '11  do  my  best  in  my  way,  and  thank  my 
stars  for  the  chance.  There  is  n't  a  girl  in  the 
house  to  match  her,  that 's  sure." 


IN  GAY  STREET  73 

The  moment  that  his  duties  in  the  reception- 
room  were  over  Murray  convoyed  Jane  away  to  one 
of  the  attractive  retreats  he  had  mentioned,  a 
beflowered  nook  on  the  staircase  landing,  from 
which  they  could  view  the  hall  below,  and  see  the 
greater  part  of  the  long  drawing-room,  where  the 
dancing  had  begun.  Strains  of  gay  music  from 
the  orchestra  floated  pleasantly  up  to  them. 

"Now  this  is  something  like!"  said  Murray* 
sinking  back  upon  the  soft  divan  behind  the 
palms.  He  pulled  off  his  gloves  as  he  spoke> 
rolled  them  into  a  ball  and  crammed  them  into 
his  pocket.  He  did  not  put  them  on  again  that 
evening  —  a  bit  of  kindliness  which  two  guests 
understood  and  appreciated. 

"If  I  'm  not  monopolising  the  host  when  he 
ought  to  be  looking  after  his  other  guests,"  replied 
Jane,  as  her  eyes  followed  the  distant  dancers. 

"  If  there  is  any  monopoly,  I  'm  the  guilty  one  — 
and  enjoying  my  guilt.  Honestly,  Miss  Bell, 
it 's  a  fine  chance  for  me  to  get  acquainted  with  my 
neighbour,  if  she  '11  let  me.  And  as  for  my  being 
missed  -  A  shake  of  the  head  told  Jane  more 
than  its  owner  meant  of  his  loneliness,  at  which 
she  had  hitherto  only  guessed. 

Meanwhile,  Peter  had  also  fallen  into  friendly 
hands,  if  youthful  ones.  Shirley,  allowed  to  play 
a  modest  part  in  the  affairs  of  the  evening,  but 


74  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

finding  nobody  willing  to  give  her  more  than  a 
smile  and  nod,  fell  upon  Peter  as  a  possible  ally. 
He  had  been  standing  at  one  side  of  the  crush,  in 
the  doorway  of  the  drawing-room,  looking  on  with 
interested  eyes,  but  feeling  a  trifle  deserted,  never 
theless,  when  he  felt  a  warm  little  hand  slide  into 
his  own.  Looking  down,  surprised,  he  met  Shir 
ley's  friendly  smile. 

"You  don't  know  many  people,  do  you?** 
asked  that  frank  young  person. 

"I  don't  know  anybody,"  returned  Peter. 
"No,  I  ought  not  to  say  that,  for  your  brother 
Forrest  presented  me  to  a  number  of  girls.  But 
I  don't  know  how  to  dance,  and  they  soon  left  me 
for  livelier  company." 

"Nobody  asks  me  to  dance,  either,"  said  Shirley, 
''because  Olive  would'n't  invite  any  boys  of  my 
age,  and  the  big  ones  want  the  big  girls." 

"I  don't,"  Peter  assured  her.  "I  want  one 
about  thirteen  years  old,  dressed  in  a  jolly  white 
lacy  frock,  with  pink  ribbons  and  pink  slippers. 
I  feel  more  at  home  with  a  girl  like  that  than  with 
any  of  those  I  was  introduced  to.  You  see,  their 
hair  was  so  —  done  up!" 

"  Done  up !  Was  n't  your  sister's  hair  done  up  ?" 
queried  Shirley.  "Oh  no,  I  remember!  Those 
lovely  thick  curls  of  hers  were  tied  in  a  bunch  at 
her  neck  —  such  a  lovely  way;  none  of  the  others 


IN  GAY  STREET  75 

do  theirs  like  that.  She  's  awfully  pretty,  is  n't 
she  ?  Prettier  than  Olive,  I  think." 

"I  admire  my  sister  very  much,"  agreed  Peter, 
"but  it  would  be  hard  for  anybody  to  be  prettier 
than  your  sister." 

His  eyes  turned  to  Olive  as  he  spoke.  She 
stood  near  by,  exchanging  gay  talk  with  a  tall 
youth  in  the  interval  between  dances.  More 
beautifully  dressed  than  any  young  girl  he  had 
ever  seen,  her  dark  face  lighted  into  brilliancy  by 
excitement,  the  rare  colour  in  her  cheeks  set 
off  by  the  big  bunch  of  red  roses  she  carried,  she 
was  a  picturesque  figure  indeed. 

"Yes,  Olive  does  look  pretty,"  admitted  Olive's 
little  sister.  "Excuse  me  a  minute,  please,"  she 
added,  and  slipped  over  to  Olive's  side.  If  Peter 
could  have  heard  the  brief  whispered  conversation 
exchanged,  he  would  hardly  have  dared  to  stand 
watching  it,  as  he  did. 

"  Olive,"  begged  Shirley,  when  with  difficulty 
she  had  secured  her  sister's  reluctant  attention,  "if 
I  take  care  of  Peter  Bell  for  a  while,  won't  you  be 
nice  to  him  ?  He  does  n't  dance,  and  he  does  n't 
know  anybody 

"It 's  enough  that  he  's  here!"  retorted  Olive, 
with  a  frown.  "I  didn't  ask  him  or  his  sister, 
so  I " 

"You  did  n't  ask  him  ?" 


76  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"No,  no  —  run  along!" 

"But  who " 

"  Forrest  —  without  saying  a  word  to  me." 

"Oh!"  Shirley  gasped,  and  was  silent  for  a 
minute.  Then  she  pulled  at  Olive's  arm  again. 

"Olive,  but  they  're  our  guests  just  the  same, 
and " 

"Shirley,  don't  bother  me  now!" 

"Listen,  Olive,  just  a  minute.  Peter  says 
nobody  could  be  prettier  than  you." 

It  was  a  shot  which  told.  Olive's  grudging 
attention  was  arrested.  She  glanced  over  her 
sister's  head,  in  the  direction  of  Peter.  Her  eyes 
met  his,  and  she  turned  away  again,  but  not  before 
the  momentary  vision  of  the  strong,  intent  face 
had  impressed  itself  upon  her  as  rather  bettei 
worth  consideration  than  many  of  the  others. 

The  thought  of  such  a  compliment  as  Shirley 
had  reported  coming  from  those  firm-set  lips  of 
Peter  Bell  gave  the  recipient  rather  a  novel 
sensation. 

Olive  had  been  out  of  patience  with  Peter  from 
the  moment  that  she  caught  sight  of  his  unconven 
tional  attire,  but  she  felt  all  at  once  more  tolerant 
of  his  presence.  "  He  did  n't  tell  you  to  tell  me 
that,  I  suppose  ?"  she  whispered  to  Shirley. 

"Oh,  no,  I  only " 

"Go  back,  and  tell  him  to  save  some  time  for 


IN  GAY  STREET  77 

me  after  this  dance.  I  '11  keep  the  next  one  foy 
him." 

"  But,  Olive,  you  know  he  does  n't  dance  - 

"  I  '11  sit  it  out  with  him,  since  he  does  n't 
know  enough  to  come  and  ask  me  for  himself." 

Half  an  hour  later  Jane,  passing  through  the 
hall  with  Murray,  on  the  way  to  the  library, 
where  he  was  to  show  her  certain  books  of  which 
they  had  been  talking,  caught  sight  of  her  brother 
just  mounting  the  staircase  to  the  retreat  on  the 
landing.  To  her  surprise  and  relief  —  for  she 
had  anxiously  looked  for  him  from  time  to  time, 
and  had  seen  him  with  nobody  but  little  Shirley  — 
she  noted  that  he  was  now  in  the  company  of  his 
girlish  hostess,  and  that  that  young  person  was 
turning  upon  him  a  gracious  face. 

To  Jane  the  remainder  of  the  evening  passed 
in  full  pleasure.  She  spent  an  interesting  hour 
in  the  library  with  Murray,  who  made  himself 
a  delightful  companion,  expanding  in  the  sym 
pathetic  atmosphere  of  her  good  comradeship 
into  a  more  genial  warmth  and  sincerity  of  manner 
than  she  had  imagined  him  capable  of  showing. 
Then  Forrest  came  in  search  of  her,  and  bore  her 
uway  to  join  a  company  of  young  people  who  were 
going  to  supper  together. 

Under  Forrest's  wing  she  found  her  position 
secure-  for  he  was  a  much-admired  youth,  and 


78  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

whatsoever  girl  he  chose  to  favour  must  —  as  he 
had  known  —  be  treated  with  friendliness  by  all 
his  companions.  Jane's  own  charms  came  to 
her  aid  also,  and  brought  several  unattached  young 
gentlemen  to  her  side,  so  that  before  the  evening 
was  over  she  had  made  what  Forrest  inwardly 
congratulated  himself  upon  as  "a  respectable 
success." 

Upon  the  landing  Peter  established  Olive  and 
himself  on  the  divan  among  the  palms.  He 
studied  his  companion's  face  a  moment,  then 
said  abruptly,  "  I  want  to  tell  yoii,  Mis?  Townseud, 
that  I  'm  more  than  sorry  to  be  here  by  ?fi 
accident." 

She  looked  up  at  him,  startled,  but  met  only  ^ 
quiet  smile.  "How  did  you  —  I  didn't  mean 
you " 

"  I  know  you  did  n't  —  and  you  were  very 
kind  not  tc  show  how  you  must  have  felt.  Perhaps 
it  would  be  in  better  taste  for  me  not  to  mention 
it  at  all.  But  I  wanted  you  to  know  that  I  appre 
ciated  your  courtesy  in  accepting  the  situation." 

"But  how " 

"I  found  out  —  from  a  little  slip  of  Miss 
Shirley's.  I  wanted  to  go  home,  of  course,  but  — • 
I  could  n't  make  up  my  mind  to  spoil  my  sister's 
evening,  and  besides  —  I  thought  your  brother's 
invitation  made  it  right  for  us  to  be  here." 


IN  GAY  STREET  79 

Olive's  dark  face  was  colouring  warmly  She 
looked  down  at  her  roses,  wondering  what  to  say. 
Somehow  she  found  herself  unwilling  to  let  Peter 
Bell  think  she  did  n't  want  him  at  her  party,  for 
it  was  becoming  clear  to  her  that  she  did. 

"I'm  so  sorry,"  she  murmured.  "But  I'm 
very  glad  you  did  n't  go  home.  If  I  had  known 
you  longer  I  'm  sure  I  should  have  invited 

"Don't  bother  to  explain,"  urged  Peter's  low 
voice.  "I  did  n't  tell  you  to  make  you  uncomfort 
able.  Perhaps  you  won't  mind  my  saying  that 
looking  on  at  this  sort  of  thing  is  very  interesting 
to  me.  I  "ve  never  seen  it  before." 

"How  do  you  like  it?"  asked  Olive,  glancing 
up  at  him  curiously. 

Peter  laughed,  looking  off  for  a  moment  toward 
the  drawing-room.  "I'm  an  outdoor  sort  of 
chap,  I  think,"  he  said.  "Yet  it 's  very  pretty, 
all  that  down  there,  and  I  like  to  look  at  it.  Miss 
Townsend,  do  you  ride  horseback  much  ?" 

"Sometimes  —  not  often.     I  don't  care  for  it." 

"Neither  should  I,  down  the  boulevard  or 
in  the  park,  but  out  on  a  country  road.  I  'm 
a  country  boy,  and  I  like  a  good  gallop  down 
the  old  North  bo  ro  Road  —  miles  of  it  as  smooth 
as  a  floor.  As  for  cross-country  —  ah,  there's 
sport!" 

"I  Ve  never  seen  you  ride." 


So  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

Peter's  face  changed.  "No,  I  don't  ride  now," 
he  said. 

"  But  you  have  Saturday  afternoons  free  ?'"* 

"Oh,  yes." 

"There  are  three  saddle-horses  in  the  stable," 
said  Olive,  making  a  sudden  resolve,  "  and  only 
one  of  them  gets  much  use.  Would  you  — care 
to  take  me  for  a  gallop  down  the  Northboro 
Road  some  day  ?" 

That  she  should  make  such  a  proposition  as 
this  would  have  seemed  to  Olive  Townsend  but 
an  hour  before  preposterous.  But  now,  looking 
up  at  the  sturdy  figure  before  her,  noting  the 
wistful  smile  with  which  Peter  had  spoken  of  past 
experiences,  it  had  come  to  her  all  at  once  that  a 
new  pleasure  might  be  hers.  She  saw  plainly 
that  she  should  not  be  ashamed  of  Peter  as  an 
escort  anywhere. 

Peter  stared  at  his  hostess  for  a  moment  as  if 
he  could  hardly  believe  that  he  had  heard  aright. 
"  Do  you  really  mean  that,  Miss  Townsend  ?" 
he  asked. 

"  Lideed  I  do.  I  'm  not  in  the  habit  of  saying 
<fiings  I  don't  mean." 

"Then,  thank  you,  I  should  like  it  immensely," 
he  said,  with  a  smile  and  bow,  more  attractive, 
Olive  admitted  to  herself,  than  any  she  had  re 
ceived  that  evening. 


CHAPTER  VI 

WEEDS  AND  FLOWERS 

GOOD  morning,  Miss  Jane  Bell!  May 
I  come  in  ?" 

Jane  lifted  her  head  quickly  from  over  the  phlox- 
bed  she  was  weeding  in  the  little  garden  back 
of  the  house,  to  see  Forrest  Townsend  looking 
over  the  wooden  gate  which  shut  away  the  garden 
from  the  surrounding  neighborhood. 

"Good  morning!  Yes,  indeed,  come  in,"  she 
responded  blithely,  waving  a  discarded  white 
ruffled  sunbonnet  at  her  guest.  He  vaulted  over 
the  low  barrier  and  came  swinging  down  the 
narrow  path  to  the  end  of  the  enclosure,  where 
the  phlox-bed  lay.  Here  he  stood  still,  regarding 
with  favour  the  girl  in  the  blue  dress,  whose  bronze- 
tinted  hair  glinted  in  the  early  June  sunlight. 

"Always  busy  at  something,  are  n't  you  ?"  he 
said,  tipping  over  a  bushel-basket  half-filled 
with  weeds,  and  seating  himself  upon  it.  "Yes, 
I  know  I  've  spilled  out  the  weeds,  but  I  '11  pick 
'em  up  again  when  I  'm  through.  I  came  over 
to  have  a  serious  talk  with  you,  and  I  've  got  to 
be  down  here  near  you,  where  I  can  look  you  in 

81 


82  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

the  eye.  The  grass  is  too  damp  yet  to  sit  on 
in  white  trousers." 

Jane  laughed.  "It  can't  be  a  very  serious 
matter  that's  troubling  you,  or  you  would  n't 
think  of  your  clothes." 

"It  is  serious,  though.  I  'm  full  of  it,  and 
can't  stop  to  talk  about  the  weather,  so  here 
goes.  —  I  've  quarelled  with  my  father." 

Jane,  who  had  thus  far  not  ceased  her  weeding, 
stopped  work  and  sat  still  to  look  at  her  neighbour. 
He  met  her  gaze  defiantly. 

"Yes,  I  know.  You  think  this  is  another 
case  of  schoolboy  heroics,  like  the  last  fuss  I 
told  you  I  had  with  him  — " 

"I  wish  you  would  n't  tell  me." 

"I've  got  to  tell  somebody.  Come,  Jane  — 
you  've  grown  to  seem  like  the  best  friend  I  have 
—  don't  turn  the  cold  shoulder  on  me  just  when 
I  need  you.  You  know  what  my  mother  and 
sister  are  like  — — " 

With  a  gesture  of  disapproval  Jane  turned 
away  to  her  work. 

Forrest  watched  her  for  a  moment  in  silence; 
then  he  began  again: 

"All  right,  I  won't  complain  if  you  '11  just 
let  me  tell  you  about  this  last  scrape.  There  Js 
nobody  else  I  can  talk  to  —  you  know  enough 
about  us  to  know  that." 


IN  GAY  STREET  83 

"There  ought  to  be.     Your  brother " 

"Oh,  Murray!  With  all  respect  to  him — 
since  you  insist  on  respect —  he  's  not  off  the 
same  piece  of  cloth  with  me,  and  can't  under 
stand  me  any  more  than  I  can  him.  His  blood 
is  n't  good  red  blood  at  all;  it's  white,  I  think, 
*nd  I " 

Jane  rose  up  from  her  knees  and  stood  above 
her  visitor,  determination  on  her  frank  face. 

"Forrest  Townsend,"  said  she,  "if  you  can  talk 
to  me  without  running  down  your  family,  I  '11 
listen,  but  not  otherwise.  I  don't  think  you 
ought  to  tell  me  your  affairs  at  all,  but  if  you  're 
sure  I  can  be  of  use  I  '11  hear  them,  on  that  one 
condition." 

Forrest  studied  her  a  moment  without  replying, 
while  her  clear  hazel  eyes  returned  his  gaze. 
Then  he  laughed  rather  awkardly. 

"You  're  the  soul  of  honour,  are  n't  you  ?"  he 
said.  "And  that's  just  why  I  need  your  advice. 
I  don't  want  to  do  anything  dishonourable,  but 
I  'm  in  a  corner,  and  don't  see  any  way  out  except 
a  jump  over  the  wall.  Let  me  tell  you  —  please!'* 

Jane  dropped  upon  her  knees  again  and  gave 
her  attention  to  her  work.  Taking  this  as  per 
mission,  Forrest  began,  picking  up  a  long,  pink- 
headed  weed  and  pulling  it  through  his  fingers 
as  he  talked. 


84  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"I  Ve  known  all  the  while  father  wanted  me 
in  the  house  with  him,  and  wanted  me  to  go  to 
college  with  that  end  in  view.  We  've  had  a 
few  brushes  on  the  subject  from  time  to  time, 
and  I  've  told  him  over  and  over  I  never  meant 
to  go  to  college,  or  to  go  into  the  business,  either, 
but  he  's  thought  it  boy  talk,  I  suppose.  Anyhow, 
it  turns  out  he's  never  taken  me  seriously  when 
I  Ve  told  him  I  meant  to  live  my  own  life  in  my 
own  way.  He  had  me  tutored  all  last  winter, 
to  get  me  ready  for  my  entrance  examinations, 
and  he  expects  me  to  go  down  and  take  them 
next  week.  That  's  where  I  balked.  He  tackled 
me  last  night,  and  I  had  it  out  with  him.  The 
result  was"—  Forrest  tried  to  keep  up  the  non 
chalant  manner  he  had  assumed  when  he  began 
this  explanation,  but  his  voice  showed  his  strong 
feeling  as  he  ended  the  sentence — "the  result 
was  —  he  gave  it  to  me  hot  and  heavy,  and  I  — 
talked  back  at  him.  In  short,  I  - 

Jane,  her  pretty  lips  set  close  together,  her 
troubled  eyes  on  the  ground,  listened  anxiously 
for  the  words. 

"You    don't    mean "    she    began,    slowly. 

Forrest  nodded,  and  she  caught  the  gesture. 
It  brought  her  head  round  and  her  eyes  to  search 
his.  "You  didn't — say  you  wouldn't  do  what 
he  wants  ?" 


IN  GAY  STREET  85 

"I  did  — and  meant  it.'* 

Jane  drew  a  long  breath.  She  forgot  her 
weeding  and  sat  back  upon  the  walk,  pulling  off 
her  gloves.  Forrest  waited  silently  for  her  first 
comment. 

"Imagine  my  brother  Peter  doing  that,"  she 
murmured. 

"  I  can't  imagine  it  —  though  Peter  's  no  soft 
head.  But  your  father's  human,  Jane.  Mine 
—  isn't." 

"Oh,  he  is  —  he  is!  Don't  say  that!  He  may 
seem  stern  and  hard,  but  that  's  only  on  the 
surface,  I  'm  sure." 

"Much  you  know  about  it!"  muttered  Forrest. 
"  But,  anyhow,  hard  or  not,  I  'm  not  going  to  be 
jfjut  into  a  business  life  I  hate." 

"What  would  you  like  to  do  ?" 

"Go  into  the  army." 

Jane  stared  at  him,  astonished.  This  idle 
youth  live  that  sort  of  life  ?  Her  lips  curved 
slowly  into  a  smile,  at  which  Forrest  promptly 
took  umbrage. 

"See  here,"  he  said,  sitting  up  straight,  "you  're 
not  to  judge  me,  you  know,  from  what  you  Ve 
seen  of  me  in  the  two  months  you  Ve  lived  in  Gay 
Street.  I  Ve  been  on  vacation,  I  admit,  ever  since 
my  tutor  left  in  March.  Besides,  it  's  not  enlisting 
as  a  private  I  'm  thinking  of  —  no,  no!  I  want 


86 

to  enter  the  army  by  the  way  of  West  Point,  and 
get  my  lieutenant's  commission  at  graduation. 
That 's  a  very  different  thing/' 

"Yes,  that 's  true.  It  means,  I  believe,  four 
years  of  the  severest  training  in  the  world.  I 
know  a  boy  who  went  —  he  could  n't  stand  it." 

Forrest  flushed  hotly  under  his  fair  skin.  "And 
you  think  I  could  n't.  That  settles  it.  I  '11  go, 
if  only  to  prove  you  're  mistaken." 

The  girl  looked  up  quickly,  startled  by  his 
tone.  "Ah,  please,"  she  began,  "don't  talk 
that  way.  Tell  me  —  will  your  brother  go  into 
the  business  ?" 

"Not  much!  His  health  settles  that  for  him. 
Besides,  he  's  too  bookish,  and  father  Jll  let  him 
do  what  he  pleases,  anyway  —  he  does  n't  mind 
having  one  son  of  that  stripe.  But  the  other 
son  —  he  must  go  into  the  mill,  whether  he  wants 
to  or  not!" 

"Could  you  get  to  West  Point  without  your 
father's  permission  ?  Don't  you  have  to  be  sent 
by  somebody  —  your  Congressman,  is  n't  it  ?" 

"Oh,  there  's  a  lot  of  red  tape,  and  father 
could  block  the  whole  game,  I  suppose.  If  he 
does  —  well,  I  'd  enlist  and  get  into  the  ranks 
and  work  my  way  up,  rather  than  go  into  that 
dingy  old  office  and  tie  myself  to  a  desk  and  a 
telephone." 


IN  GAY  STREET  87 

Forrest  got  upon  his  feet  as  he  spoke,  brushed 
a  clinging  weed  leaf  or  two  from  his  clothes, 
and  stood  looking  gloomily  down  at  Jane,  who 
had  risen  also.  "  It 's  evident  I  get  no  sympathy 
from  you,"  he  said.  "I  thought  you  were  a  girl 
who  could  understand  a  fellow's  ambitions  — 
not  wet-blanket  them." 

Jane  looked  up  at  him,  smiling,  although  her 
eyes  were  still  troubled.  "I  can,  I  think/'  she 
said.  "Yet  —  somehow  —  I'm  imagining  the 
disappointment  it  must  be  to  a  father  who  has 
built  up  a  great  business  like  Townsend  &  Com 
pany's  to  have  his  son  take  no  interest  in  it.  I 
can't  help  thinking  - 

"What?"-  — as  Jane  paused  abruptly. 

"Never  mind." 

"But  I  want  to  know  what  you  can't  help 
thinking." 

"Well,  I  'm  wondering  if  it  would  be  any 
harder  for  you  to  go  into  your  father's  office  than 
it  is  for  Peter  to  work  with  my  father  in  the  note- 
paper  factory.  Do  you  know  what  Peter  wants 
to  be  ?" 

"No.  I  know  he  has  a  good  position  for  his 
age,  with  the  Armstrongs." 

"Yes,  but  Peter  wants  —  has  wanted  for  six 
years  —  to  be  a  chemist  —  an  expert,  you  know. 
Oh,  I  'm  not  sure  I  ought  to  tell  you  —  please 


88 

never  speak  of  it.  Even  father  does  n't  know 
it  's  any  more  than  a  boy's  fancy.  Peter  could  n't 
afford  the  years  of  training,  of  course  —  and 
father  can't  spare  him.  There  are"  —as  Forrest 
looked  surprised-  "more  people  dependent  on 
father  and  the  boys  than  you  know  of  —  and  I 
must  n't  tell  you.  All  I  want  you  to  know  is 
that"  -Jane  smiled  wistfully-  "there  are  other 
people  who  can't  have  their  own  way  —  and 
who  are  making  the  best  of  it,  and  pretty  bravely, 
too." 

Mrs.  Bell  came  to  the  door  of  the  house,  and 
with  a  pleasant  nod  and  smile  to  Forrest,  told 
Jane  that  a  certain  bowl  of  bread-dough  had 
reached  a  critical  condition  of  lightness.  The 
girl  picked  up  her  basket,  and  Forrest  bent  to 
toss  into  it  the  weeds  he  had  thrown  out. 

"Please  don't  feel  I  'm  an  unsympathetic 
listener,"  begged  Jane,  as  her  visitor  took  his 
leave. 

"I  won't.  I  know  you  mean  it  all  right.  I 
just  think  you  don't  understand  all  the  facts  in 
the  case.  Much  obliged  to  you  for  hearing  me 
out.  If  I  turn  up  missing  some  day,  you  '11 
know  you  did  your  part,  and  gave  me  the  proper 
grandmotherly  advice."  And  Forrest  swung  away 
through  the  gate  with  a  reckless  air,  which  Jane 
thought  rather  melodramatic,  and  quite  in  keeping 


IN  GAY  STREET  89 

with  a  certain  staginess  sometimes  apparent  in 
the  youth's  bearing. 

Jane's  acquaintance  with  Olive  Tovvnsend  had 
progressed  very  slowly.  Olive  was  not  a  girl  who 
possessed  the  gift  of  making  many  warm  friend 
ships.  She  was  not  well  liked  even  by  the  young 
people  of  her  own  chosen  circle.  Girl  visitors 
were  not  frequent  at  the  Townsend  house,  and 
Olive  was  seldom  seen  coming  or  going  with  one  or 
another  of  such  friends.  Yet  there  was  some 
thing  about  her  personality  which  held  a  strong 
attraction  for  Jane,  and  made  her  want  to  know 
Olive  well. 

When  Peter  returned  from  his  first  horseback 
ride  in  Olive's  company,  Jane  had  waited  with 
interest  for  his  description  of  the  event.  Peter 
always  told  Jane  his  experiences  —  for  the  reason, 
perhaps,  that  she  never  demanded  them  from 
him,  never  betrayed  his  confidences,  and  invari 
ably  showed  her  appreciation  of  his  comradeship. 

"She  's  an  odd  girl,"  said  Peter  to  Jane.  "She 
seemed  principally  occupied,  for  the  first  two 
miles,  in  noticing  how  I  rode,  whether  I  kept 
elbows  in,  head  up,  back  stiff,  like  herself,  and 
whether  I  held  my  whip  in  the  proper  position. 
We  jogged  along  at  a  fussy  little  pace,  talking 
about  nothing  in  particular,  and  minding  our  p's 


90  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

and  q's  as  if  we  were  at  Professor  Miller's  riding 
academy,  with  the  eye  of  the  master  on  us." 

"I  hope  she  was  satisfied  with  your  correct 
style,"  Jane  said.  "I  saw  you  start,  and  I 
thought  you  looked  more  at  home  in  the  saddle 
than  she." 

"I  probably  am.  After  riding  everything  on 
grandfather's  farm  ever  since  I  was  a  little  shaver, 
and  breaking  every  colt  he  had  for  the  three  years 
we  lived  there,  I  ought  to  feel  fairly  comfort 
able  on  a  model  saddle-horse  like  the  one  she 
gave  me.  She 's  been  trained  in  the  school, 
which  leaves  a  lot  of  things  to  be  desired,  to  my 
way  of  thinking.  She  broke  loose  all  right, 
though,  when  I  got  my  chance  to  show  her  what 
my  idea  of  the  sport  is." 

Peter's  face  took  on  a  comical  expression, 
and  Jane  hurried  him  on  with  an  eager  "Well  ?" 

"We  got  out  on  the  Northboro  Road.  You 
know  that  long  stretch  where  there  are  so  few 
houses  —  just  a  sort  of  lane  between  big  trees, 
shady  and  cool,  and  the  road  like  a  training- 
track  at  this  time  of  year  ?" 

Jane  nodded. 

"I  proposed  that  we  let  out  a  reef  or  two.  She 
agreed,  and  we  broke  into  a  baby  canter.  I 
kept  hitting  up  the  pace  a  little.  Her  horse 
caught  the  idea,  and  began  to  quicken.  She 


IN  GAY  STREET  91 

bumped  about  a  bit,  but  I  saw  she  would  know 
how  to  stay  en,  even  if  she  moved  faster  than 
she  ever  had  before.  Just  as  we  got  up  a  fairly 
decent  speed,  one  of  those  little  crack- a-cracks 
of  motor-cycles  came  bursting  out  of  a  drive 
way,  and  both  our  horses  shied  and  threatened 
to  bolt. 

"It  was  nothing,  you  know;  they  were  over  it 
in  a  jiffy,  and  she  kept  her  seat  all  right,  and 
showed  she  was  game.  But  it  stirred  both  horses 
to  take  the  rest  of  that  stretch  at  as  pretty  a  gallop 
as  you  'd  care  to  see;  and  when  I  saw  the  girl 
was  all  right,  I  shouted,  'Come  on!'  and  let  them 
have  it.  I  tell  you,  she  forgot  the  riding  academy 
and  Professor  Miller,  and  rode  for  fair.  It  was 
jolly  good  fun,  and  she  enjoyed  it,  too." 

Peter  laughed  reminiscently.  Jane  remarked 
that  she  had  noticed  Olive's  masses  of  black  hair 
were  not  in  quite  such  trim  shape  when  she  came 
home  from  that  ride  as  upon  setting  forth;  and 
Peter  admitted  that  upon  that  joyous  gallop  she 
had  dropped  not  only  her  whip,  but  most  of  he* 
hairpins,  of  which  latter  articles  he  had  been 
able  to  recover  for  her  only  a  few. 

"That's  all  the  girl  needs,"  he  observed, sagely. 
"Just  shake  out  a  few  of  her  hairpins  each  time 
you  're  with  her,  and  she  '11  learn  how  to  be 
good  friends  with  you." 


92  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"I  don't  have  much  chance  to  shake  out  her 
hairpins,"  Jane  objected. 

"You  will.  You're  to  go  next  time  —  some 
day  when  her  brother  Forrest  is  away,  and  I 
can  ride  his  horse  and  you  the  one  I  had.  I 
told  her  a  pitiful  tale  of  how  you  loved  to  ride, 
how  well  you  could  do  it,  and 

"Peter!" 

"Oh,  I  didn't  whine — just  let  her  know  I 
Was  n't  the  only  horseman  in  the  family.  She  'II 
ask  you  —  see  if  she  doesn't;  if  s^he  doesn't  I 
won't  go  myself." 

Olive  did  not  ask  Jane,  however,  and  after 
one  more  ride  with  her,  Peter  suddenly  became 
too  busy  to  accept  her  invitations.  Olive  went 
off  by  herself  one  day,  suffered  a  fall  and  a  sprained 
shoulder,  and  was  thereby  initiated  at  last  into 
Jane's  friendship. 

"My  sister  sent  me  over,"  said  Murray 
Townsend,  one  June  evening,  to  Jane,  who, 
hemming  a  tiny  ruffle,  sat  in  the  western  sunlight 
upon  the  little  back  porch,  where  the  family  now 
spent  their  evenings,  enjoying  the  first  blossom 
ings  of  the  small  garden.  "She's  been  fretting 
all  day  with  that  shoulder  of  hers  she  hurt  last 
week,  and  vows  she  can't  get  through  the  evening 
with  me.  The  others  are  all  away  —  as  usual. 
Won't  you  do  us  the  favour  of  coming  over?" 


IN  GAY  STREET  93 

"Was  it  really  her  suggestion — or  yours?" 
Jane  challenged  him,  for  it  was  not  the  first  time 
he  had  made  the  attempt,  upon  one  excuse  or 
or  another,  to  get  her  across  the  street. 

"Hers,  on  my  honour,  though  I  '11  admit  I 
seconded  the  motion.  She  really  wants  you. 
She's  lying  on  a  couch  round  on  the  side  porch. 
It's  a  jolly  place,  or  would  be  if  it  —  had  you  in 
it,"  he  nearly  said,  but  discreetly  substituted  — 
"had  such  a  nice  crowd  in  it  as  this." 

He  glanced  from  one  to  another  of  the  group 
upon  the  little  porch.  Ross  was  softly  breathing 
notes  from  a  flute.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bell  sat  side 
by  side,  in  happy  comradeship.  Peter,  his  long 
legs  extending  well  out  upon  the  grass  before  the 
porch,  whittled  at  a  bit  of  wood;  and  Nancy, 
close  beside  her  cousin  Ross,  was  holding  for 
him  a  page  of  music,  which  he  evidently  was  trying 
for  the  first  time. 

"Stay  with  them,  if  you  'd  like  to,"  suggested 
Jane,  softly,  as  she  put  away  her  work  and 
prepared  to  accept  his  invitation.  "You  know 
they  always  like  to  have  you  -  -  every  one 
of  them  --  and  I  can  slip  across  by  myself. 
I  '11  take  her  some  of  my  mignonette  and  June 
roses." 

"'Thank  you  for  your  kind  permission," 
answered  Murray,  following  Jane's  white-clad 


94  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

figure  slowly  down  to  the  mignonette-bed  at  the 
farther  end  of  the  garden,  "  but  I  'd  rather  accept 
it  some  evening  when  Miss  Jane  Bell  is  to  be  at 
home.  'Hamlet'  with  Ophelia  left  out  would  n't 
be  much  more  of  a  play  than  it  would  be  minus 
the  melancholy  gentleman  himself." 

Armed  with  a  great  bunch  of  the  fragrant  blos 
soms  from  the  garden,  Jane  accompanied  Murray 
across  Gay  Street,  through  the  gate  in  the  high 
hedge,  and  over  the  lawn  and  round  the  house 
to  the  great  sheltered  porch  on  the  other  side, 
its  tall  columns  making  it  as  great  a  contrast  to 
the  miniature  place  she  had  just  left  as  could  be 
imagined.  Rugs  carpeted  the  floor,  big  bamboo 
and  rush  chairs  invited  repose,  and  screens  hung 
ready  to  be  dropped,  and  to  shut  it  quite  away 
from  invading  breezes. 

On  a  wide,  richly  cushioned  settee  lay  Olive, 
listless  and  unhappy.  She  scanned  Jane  closely, 
noted  that  her  visitor  was  not  less  attractively, 
if  far  less  expensively,  dressed  than  herself,  and 
lifted  to  her  face  eyes  into  which  had  suddenly 
come  a  look  of  relief  and  interest. 

"For  me?"  she  asked,  as  Jane  put  the  flowers 
into  her  outstretched  hands.  "Oh,  how  sweet! 
Why  don't  we  have  such  mignonette  as  that  in 
our  gardens  ?" 

"There  are  a  lot  of  flowers,"  thought  Murray, 


IN  GAY  STREET  95 

as  he  watched  Jane  take  her  seat  by  his  sister 
and  begin  to  entertain  her,  "that  they  grow  in 
Gay  Street  which  we  don't  know  the  smell  of 
over  here.  If  we  could  just  transplant  the  one 
I  brought  over  to-night,  what  a  beginning  of  a 
garden  we  should  have!" 


CHAPTER  VII 

JANE  PUTS  A  QUESTION 

ON  HER  way  home  from  a  trip  to  a  not 
far-distant  fruit-shop,  Nancy  Bell  caught 
sight  of  her  friend,  Shirley  Townsend,  waving 
an  eagerly  summoning  hand  from  the  gateway 
in  the  hedge. 

It  was  a  hot  morning  in  early  July,  and  Nancy, 
after  running  into  the  house  to  report  her  return 
to  her  mother,  joined  Shirley  in  a  shady  corner 
under  the  shrubbery,  which  had  become  a  favourite 
trysting-place  of  the  two  children. 

Half  an  hour  afterward  Nancy,  her  eyes  wide 
with  excitement,  sought  out  her  mother  and 
Jane  upon  the  small  back  porch,  where  each 
was  busy  with  the  morning's  work  —  at  this 
moment  the  looking-over  of  raspberries  and  the 
shelling  of  peas. 

"O  mother  —  O  Jane!"  the  child  began,  "the 
dreadfullest  thing  has  happened  over  at  the 
big  house!  Forrest  Townsend 's  run  away,  and 
they  don't  know  where  he  is!" 

"Why,  Nan!"  Jane's  busy  fingers,  red  with 
96 


IN  GAY  STREET  97 

raspberry  stains,  stopped  their  work,  as  she  stared 
at  her  sister  in  dismay.  "That  can't  be  so!" 

"Yes,  it  can  —  it  is!  Shirley  told  me.  He's 
been  gone  three  days,  but  they  thought  he  must 
be  off  on  a  visit  till  they  got  a  letter  this  morning. 
And  they  don't  even  know  where  the  letter  was 
mailed  from.  Mrs.  Townsend  's  sick  in  bed  about 
it,  and  Shirley  says  her  father  won't  say  a  word  — • 
just  looks  white  and  angry  and  queer." 

"The  poor  father  and  mother!"  murmured 
Mrs.  Bell,  her  eyes  full  of  sympathy. 

"But  he  can't  have  gone  away  to  stay,"  said 
Jane,  staring  at  Nancy,  still  incredulous.  "He's 
an  impulsive  fellow — quick  tempered,  hot-headed 
—  and  he  and  his  father  don't  get  on  well  together. 
But  to  run  away  - 

"But  he  has,"  persisted  Nancy.  "The  letter 
said  it  was  no  use  looking  for  him;  he'd  come 
back  some  time  when  he  'd  shown  he  could  look 
after  his  own  —  oh,  I  don't  remember  just  what 
he  said  —  Shirley  was  n't  sure  what  it  meant. 
But  she  said  her  mother  just  cried  and  cried, 
and  told  her  father  she'd  always  known  his  harsh 
ways  — 

"Don't,  dear  — don't  tell  us!"  Mrs.  Bell 
interrupted,  quickly.  "Shirley  shouldn't  have 
told  you  anything  that  was  said;  we  have  no  right 
to  know.  When  people  are  hurt  and  sad,  they 


98  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

say  bitter  things  they  are  very  sorry  for  after 
ward.  The  only  thing  for  us  to  know  is  that 
this  trouble  has  come  to  our  neighbours.  We 
must  think  how  we  can  help  them.  I  would 
go  over  at  once  if  I  thought  I  could  be  of  use  to 
poor  Mrs.  Townsend  —  and  were  sure  she  was 
willing  I  should  know." 

They  discussed  the  situation,  Mrs.  Bell  and 
Jane,  as  they  went  on  with  their  work;  and  Jane 
told  her  mother  all  she  knew  of  Forrest's  differences 
with  his  father.  "It  bothers  me  so,"  she  ended, 
sorrowfully,  "that  I  did  n't  realise  he  was  in  ear 
nest  about  taking  things  into  his  own  hands, 
and  do  something  to  let  the  others  know.  Do 
you  suppose  that  foolish  threat  about  enlisting 
in  the  army  could  really  have  been  what  he  meant 
to  do  ?  Do  you  suppose  he  has  done  it  ?" 

"It  is  a  possible  clue.  I  think  they  ought  to 
know  it,  if  they  have  nothing  else  to  guide  them. 
When  your  father  comes  home  I  will  talk  with 
him  about  it,  and  he  may  think  it  best  to  go  to 
Mr.  Townsend  himself,  tell  him  what  we  know, 
and  offer  to  help." 

But  it  proved  not  necessary  to  wait  until  the  eve 
ning  to  consult  about  offering  sympathy  and  counsel 
to  the  troubled  family  in  Worthington  Square. 
Early  in  the  afternoon,  while  Mrs.  Bell  lay 
resting  in  her  room,  and  Nancy  and  jane  sat  in 


IN  GAY  STREET  99 

the  shadow  of  one  of  the  big  maples  at  the  end 
of  the  garden  —  their  special  retreat  on  hot  days 
—  the  tap  of  Murray's  cane  was  heard  on  the 
walk  outside. 

"Run  into  the  house,  dear,  please!"  Jane 
whispered,  quickly.  "It  's  Murray,  and  I  believe 
he 's  come  to  talk  with  me  about  Forrest." 

Her  surmise  proved  correct,  as  she  knew  from 
her  first  glance  at  the  pale  face  and  grave  eyes 
of  her  friend.  He  was  her  friend  —  that  she 
had  come  to  know  very  clearly  in  the  last  few 
weeks  —  her  friend  in  quite  a  different  way  from 
that  in  which  Forrest  had  shown  her  friendship. 
There  had  developed  a  genuine  congenialty  of 
interests  between  the  quiet,  book-loving  youth 
and  the  girl  who  had  not  gone  to  college,  but 
who  was  persistently  giving  herself  the  higher 
education  she  longed  for.  Books  he  was  lending 
her,  lessons  in  French  and  German  he  had  been 
lately  begging  to  be  allowed  to  give  her,  and  many 
inspiring  talks  he  had  with  her  on  the  subjects 
both  loved,  whenever  a  chance  offered  or  he  could 
make  one. 

So  now,  as  Murray  came  toward  her,  his  eyes 
fixed  upon  her  as  if  he  were  sure  that  here  he 
would  find  something  he  sorely  needed,  Jane 
felt  an  added  longing  to  show  her  power  to  be 
of  use  in  time  of  trouble;  and  dropping  her  book 


ioo  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

—  one  that  belonged  to  Murray  —  she  came 
forward  to  meet  him  with  outstretched  hand, 
and  a  look  which  showed  him  that  she  already 
understood. 

"You've  heard?"  he  asked,  in  surprise.  "I 
don't  know  how,  but  I  'm  glad,  for  I  dreaded 
to  tell  it." 

"Shirley  told  Nancy  —  just  the  bare  facts  — 
and  of  course  my  little  sister  told  my  mother 
and  me.  We  Ve  been  thinking  of  you  all  ever 
since,  wishing  we  could  help  you." 

"You  can;  we  need  you.  Even  mother  feels 
it.  Olive  says  when  she  asked  her  if  she  wanted 
a  nurse,  she  refused  to  have  one  except  her  maid, 
but  said,  'I  wish  I  dared  to  ask  that  kind-faced 
Mrs.  Bell.  I  feel  as  if  she  could  tell  me  what  to 
do.'" 

"Mother  will  be  so  glad.  She  will  go  over 
by  and  by.  She  loves  to  help  people,  and  always 
knows  how  better  than  anybody  else  in  the  world." 

"I  can  believe  it.  She  makes  a  fellow  feel 
as  if  he  belonged  to  her,  somehow,  and  she  was 
interested  in  him." 

"She  is  —  that's  why  she  makes  you  feel  so.— 
Come  over  here  in  the  shade,  please,  and  tell 
me  what  I  can  do." 

Murray  dropped  upon  the  grass  beside  Jane's 
low  chair  with  a  sigh  of  weariness,  and  ran  his 


IN  GAY  STREET  101 

hand  through  the  thick  locks  of  his  hair,  pushing 
them  away  from  his  forehead  with  an  impatient 
gesture,  as  if  he  would  like  thus  easily  to  clear 
away  the  clouds  which  bothered  him. 

"You  see,"  he  began  slowly,  "I  feel  more  or 
less  responsible  myself  for  this  outbreak.  I  can't 
help  thinking  that  if  things  had  been  between  us  as 
they  ought  to  be  between  brothers  Forrest  would 
have  brought  his  notions  and  troubles  to  me." 

"  But  you —  but  he  -  *  Jane  paused,  sur 
prised  at  the  tone  he  took.  "  You  have  n't  been 
able  to  be  with  Forrest  much,  because  —  because 
he  has  been  so  active  and  lived  such  a  different 
life- 

"You  are  kind  to  excuse  me,  but  I  don't  see 
how  that  makes  it  any  better.  I  could  have 
shown  interest  and  sympathy  enough  with  his 
tastes  and  plans  to  have  made  him  come  naturally 
to  me.  I  'm  the  elder  brother,  and  I  have  n't 
been  a  brother,  only  a  querulous,  fault-finding, 
elderly  relative,  as  if  he  were  fourteen  and  I 
forty.  He  did  come  to  you  with  his  grievances 
against  father,  did  n't  he  ?" 

Jane  coloured  a  little  as  his  eyes  keenly  ques 
tioned  her. 

"Yes,  though  I  did  n't  want  him  to  tell  me, 
and  would  n't  listen  to  very  much  of  it.  I  felt 
guilty  to  let  him  talk  at  all,  but  he  was  so " 


102  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"I  *m  glad  you  did.  If  anybody  could  have 
given  him  advice  that  he  would  take  it  would 
have  been  you.  I  was  pretty  sure  he  had  been 
to  you,  by  the  way  I  saw  him  fling  over  here- 
just  after  he  'd  had  a  bout  with  father/* 

"He  said  something  that  day  I  feel  as  if  your 
father  ought  to  know,  and  I  Ve  been  wondering 
how  I  could  let  him  know,"  and  with  this  intro 
duction,  Jane  told  Murray  all  she  had  learned 
of  Forrest's  inclination  toward  the  army  and 
its  varied  experiences,  ending  as  gently  as  she 
could  with  the  boyish  threat  of  enlisting  if  he 
could  not  bring  about  his  own  appointment 
to  West  Point.  Murray  listened  to  her  very 
soberly. 

"Father  would  veto  the  West  Point  proposition 
from  the  first  word,"  he  said,  "merely  because 
he  has  no  notion  of  the  sort  of  fascination  the  idea 
would  have  for  a  restless  chap  like  my  brother. 
So  if  Forrest  asked  him  to  let  him  go,  I  Ve  no 
doubt  he  refused  him,  and  then  —  well,  I  can 
easily  imagine  Forrest  carrying  out  his  threat 
out  of  pure  bravado.  It  gives  us  something  to 
go  by,  anyhow.  We  can  soon  find  out  if  he  's 
had  the  folly  to  enlist.  He  may  have  the  dash 
and  bravery  to  do  a  gallant  deed,  to  fight  stoutly 
enough  at  a  time  of  need,  but  the  patience  and 
endurance  for  the  every-day  army  life "  He 


IN  GAY  STREET  103 

shook  his  head.  "He's  only  a  boy,  you  know. 
You  could  n't  expect  it  of  him." 

Just  here  Peter  opened  the  little  garden  gate 
and  came  swinging  in.  "Hello!  "he  called,  at  sight 
of  the  pair  under  the  maple-tree  "You  two 
look  cool  and  restful  out  there.  May  I  join  the 
picnic  party  when  I  Ve  freshened  up  a  bit  ? 
A  breakdown  in  the  power  at  the  factory  sent 
fifty  or  sixty  of  us  in  our  department  home  for 
a  quarter-holiday." 

"That  's  luck  for  us,  too  !"  called  back  Murray, 


Jane  bent  forward  eagerly.  "Do  you  mind 
Peter's  knowing?"  she  asked.  "  Pete's  so  big  and 
strong  and  —  ingenious;  he  's  like  mother  at 
knowing  what  to  do." 

"I  want  Peter  to  know,"  Murray  replied, 
without  hesitation.  "We  're  going  to  try  to  keep 
this  thing  out  of  the  papers,  of  course,  and  away 
from  our  acquaintances  as  long  as  we  can,  but 
your  family  must  all  know.  I  feel,  somehow,  as  if 
having  the  Bell  family  stand  by  us  would  be  worth 
a  lot." 

When  Peter  came  out,  in  fresh  clothes,  his 
brown  hair  damp  from  the  splashing  shower  he 
bad  just  taken,  and  joined  the  two  others  under  the 
maple,  he  was  told  the  whole  story.  He  listened 
in  clear-eyed  gravity,  with  once  or  twice  a  short 


io4  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

exclamation  of  regret.  As  Murray  ended  with 
Jane's  suggestion  about  the  runaway's  possible 
enlistment  in  the  army,  Peter  drew  a  long  breath 

"I  believe  I  can  understand  how  he  felt  about 
it,"  he  said,  throwing  his  head  back  and  staring 
up  at  the  sky  for  a  moment.  Then,  coming  back 
to  earth  with  a  squaring  of  his  broad  shoulders, 
he  added,  with  a  rueful  smile  at  Jane,  "And  that 's 
not  because  my  home  isn  't  the  happiest  one  on 
earth.  It  's  just  the  feeling  a  fellow  gets  once  in 
a  while  that  he  'd  like  to  jump  over  something  and 
make  a  dash  for  the  horizon  line —  to  see  what  's 
beyond  it!  And  I  can  see  how  he  -  Then 

he  broke  off  suddenly,  looking  at  Murray.  "That 
does  n't  mean  I  don't  appreciate  what  this  is 
to  all  his  family.  And  if  there's  anything  I  can 
do  to  help,  I  'm  your  man." 

"You  'd  be  a  good  one  to  send  after  him," 
Murray  answered,  with  a  slight  smile.  "You  'd 
know  better  than  to  pounce  on  him  like  an  officer 
of  the  law.  You'  d  treat  him  like  a  brother  —  a 
better  brother  than  I  Ve  been," — and  the  smile 
faded. 

"Look  here,  don't  take  it  that  way.  There 
are  few  brothers  I  know  who  stand  shoulder 
to  shoulder  as  they  ought  to  do.  It 's  odd,  but 
it's  so,  and  a  pity  it  is,  too.  I  think  our  family 
is  different  from  most  —  for  the  reason '* 


IN  GAY  STREET  105 

Here  Peter  stopped  abruptly  once  more,  meeting 
Jane's  eyes.  He  could  not  say  that  early 
training,  given  by  wise  parents,  had  made  all 
the  difference  in  the  world  with  their  family  life. 

"Yes,  I  fancy  I  know  the  reason,"  said  Murray, 
wistfully,  "and  I  congratulate  you  on  it." 

"I  'm  a  stupid  sort  of  Job's  comforter,"  Peter 
went  on.  "But  one  thing  is  sure;  if  you  'd  like 
an  extra  brother,  to  stand  by  in  this  difficulty, 
here  he  is." 

He  laid  his  hand  on  Murray's  arm  as  he  spoke, 
and  Murray  flushed  with  pleasure.  He  turned 
and  held  out  his  own  hand,  and  Peter's  closed 
on  it  with  a  grip.  Then  both  began  to  talk 
with  a  will  about  other  things. 

When  Murray  went  home  he  took  Mrs.  Bell 
with  him.  He  watched  her  vanish  through  the 
doorway  of  his  mother's  room,  where  that  poor 
lady  had  been  all  day  in  a  state  of  nervous  prostra 
tion,  and  felt  that  he  had  brought  her  a  friend 
worth  while. 

The  moment  that  his  father  came  home 
Murray  went  to  him  with  the  news  he  had  obtained 
in  Gay  Street.  The  two  had  a  long  conference, 
during  which  Murray  discovered  his  father  to  be 
watching  him  with  a  peculiar  expression,  as  if 
surprised  to  find  this  reserved  son  so  ready  with 
suggestions. 


io6  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

Mr.  Townsend  shook  his  head  over  the  notion 
that  Forrest  could  have  carried  his  revolt  against 
authority  so  far  as  to  have  taken  the  step  of 
enlisting  in  the  army;  but  when  Murray  urged 
that  the  clue  should  be  followed  up,  the  elder 
man  said  slowly: 

"I  don't  know  whether  it  would  do  any  good 
to  hunt  him  up  and  bring  him  home.  He 's 
taken  things  into  his  own  hands.  I  feel  like 
letting  him  manage  his  own  affairs  for  a  while, 
He  has  n't  the  force  of  character  to  deprive  him 
self  of  the  comforts  of  life  very  long.  If  he  has 
enlisted,  he  'd  better  take  the  consequences.  I  'm 
not  so  sure  but  a  term  of  service  in  the  army 
would  do  him  good,  take  the  conceit  out  of  him, 
and  show  him  that  he  cannot  escape  discipline 
anywhere;  —  life  itself  means  discipline  of  one 
sort  or  another." 

"If  we  should  find  he  had  enlisted,  then,  you 
wouldn't  take  the  steps  to  get  him  off?  You 
could,  you  know,  sir,  since  he  's  under  age.  Peter 
says  so." 

"Peter?     Peter  who?" 

"Peter  Bell  —  in  Gay  Street." 

"Oh,  yes.  You  see  a  good  deal  of  the  Bells, 
Murray  ?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"I   don't  think   I   should   apply  to  have  him 


IN  GAY  STREET  107 

released  from  service,"  said  Mr.  Townsend, 
slowly,  grim  lines  settling  about  his  mouth. 

A  week  went  by.  At  its  close  a  second  briefly 
letter  arrived  from  Forrest,  addressed  to  his 
mother.  It  stated  that  Forrest  had  enlisted  in 
the  army,  and  had,  at  his  own  application,  been 
allowed  to  join  a  regiment  just  leaving  for 
San  Francisco,  to  be  sent  for  a  term  of  three 
years'  service  in  the  Philippines*  By  the  time 
the  letter  reached  home,  Forrest  would  have 
sailed. 

The  letter  was  written  in  a  spirit  of  boyish 
bravado,  like  the  first,  but  although  it  upset 
Mrs.  Townsend  again  and  sent  her  back  t<r  her 
bed,  it  relieved  the  tension  of  the  family.  It 
furnished  definite  news  of  the  young  fellow's 
whereabouts,  and  made  it  possible  to  commu- 
tiicate  with  hirp  when  he  should  have  reached 
his  destination. 

Mrs.  Townsend  spent  many  days  thereafter 
in  urging  her  husband  to  apply  at  headquarters 
to  have  her  son  returned.  It  could  be  done,  she 
was  sure,  because  the  boy  was  but  nineteen, 
and  having  enlisted  without  his  father's  per 
mission,  must  have  misrepresented  his  age  at 
the  recruiting-station.  But  Mr.  Townsend  re 
mained  firm.  He  said  that  Forrest,  having 
chosen  this  course,  must  abide  by  it,  at  least  for 


io8  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

the  term  of  service  for  which  he  had  enlisted. 
He  would  not  have  a  turncoat  for  a  son,  he  said 
sternly,  although  with  a  suspicious  lowering  of 
the  voice;  and  he  was  more  and  more  impressed 
with  the  conviction  that  the  hard  realities  of  life 
would  make  a  man  out  of  Forrest  if  the  stuff 
of  which  men  are  made  was  in  him. 

"Meanwhile,"  he  said  to  Murray,  with  a 
sadness  which  the  other  detected,  "it  is  the 
father,  rather  than  the  son,  after  all,  who  has 
the  bitterest  dose  of  medicine  to  take." 

"  I  'm  sorry,  sir,"  was  all  Murray  could  say, 
Wondering  if  his  father  meant  the  fact  that  his 
plan  for  taking  Forrest  into  the  business  would 
have  to  be  given  up. 

He  suggested  this  to  Jane  Bell,  in  the  little 
garden  one  evening,  down  by  the  phlox-bed, 
where  she  had  gone  to  pick  a  bunch  of  flowers 
for  Olive,  who  sat  upon  the  porch  with  Ross 
and  Peter.  Olive  had  at  last  learned  the  way 
over  to  Gay  Street,  and  having  found  it,  had 
discovered  that  the  knowledge  lent  interest  to  a 
life  she  had  felt  to  be  very  dull. 

"I  suppose  he  feels  badly  about  it,"  said 
Murray,  holding  the  phlox  Jane  gave  him  while 
she  picked  a  cluster  of  lilies  to  go  with  it. 

"Indeed,  he  must." 

"It  is   the   thing  he   has   looked   forward  to 


IN  GAY  STREET  109 

for  years  —  ever  since  he  realised  he  could  n't 
make  a  business  man  out  of  me/* 

"Yes,  and  I  suppose,  even  if  your  brother 
came  back  after  two  or  three  years,  less  head 
strong  than  now,  he  might  not  be  any  more 
willing  to  settle  down  to  that  life." 

"No,  I  doubt  if  he  would.  It's  all  up  for 
father,  and  it's  a  tremendous  disappointment/' 

"I  am  very,  very  sorry  for  him,"  said  Jane, 
gravely,  musing  over  her  lilies.  There  was 
silence  for  a  moment;  then  she  looked  up.  "You 
don't  think,"  she  ventured,  her  hazel  eyes  scanning 
his,  "that  anybody  could  possibly  make  it  up 
to  him  ?" 

"Anybody?     Who?" 

"Who,  indeed?"  Jane  was  breathing  a  little 
quickly. 

Murray  stared  at  her  in  mingled  astonishment, 
questioning  and  dismay.  Then  he  spoke,  abruptly 
and  roughly:  "In  the  name  of  all  absurdity, 
you  can't  mean  me  ?" 

Jane  dropped  her  eyes,  flushing  deeply.  She 
bit  her  lips.  "It  would  be  very,  very  hard, 
would  n't  it  ?" 

Murray  drew  a  deep,  impatient  breath. 
"Hard!"  he  exploded,  and  turned  away.  Then 
he  wheeled  back.  "You're  not  serious?"  he 
said,  hurriedly.  "You  can't  be  serious  in  even 


no  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

suggesting  such  a  thing.  I  —  bookworm,  cripple, 
weakling " 

Jane  raised  her  eyes  once  more.  In  the 
deepening  twilight  Murray  felt  as  if  they  were 
searching  his  soul. 

"And  yet,"  she  said,  slowly,  and  almost  wist 
fully,  "it  would  be  such  a  magnificent  thing 
to  do.  It  would  take  hero  stuff,  I  know  — yet," 
she  smiled,  "I  think — you  —  could—  Then 

she  stopped  short.  "Oh,  forgive  me!"  she 
cried,  softly,  under  her  breath.  "What  am 
I  that  I  should  suggest  hero  deeds  to  you  ?  A 
girl  who  cries  nearly  every  night  of  her  life  because 
she  can't  go  to  college!" 


CHAPTER  VIII 

MURRAY  GIVES  AN  ANSWER 

I  WISH  I  knew/'  observed  Olive  Townsend 
to  Jane  Bell,  "what  in  the  world  is  the 
matter  with  Murray.  He  acts  as  if  he  had 
lost  his  head  completely.  I  went  into  his  room 
this  morning,  and  almost  fell  over  a  pile  of  Indian 
clubs  and  dumb-bells;  and  I  saw  a  set  of  chest 
weights  hanging  against  the  wall.  It's  the  queer 
est  thing!  He's  never  gone  in  for  that  sort  of 
thing  at  all  —  and  I  shouldn't  think  he  was 
strong  enough  for  it,  either." 

The  two  girls  were  driving  along  the  park 
roadway  in  a  high-hung  phaeton  of  Olive's, 
behind  a  very  smartly  harnessed  horse.  This 
was  the  third  time  Olive  had  asked  Jane  to  drive 
with  her,  and  although  Jane  would  have  enjoyed 
excursions  into  the  country  much  more  than 
these  drives  about  the  fashionable  city  streets, 
she  appreciated  the  honour  Olive  meant  to  do 
her  in  thus  exhibiting  their  friendship  to  all  be 
holders.  Olive  had  grown  to  be  rather  proud 
of  Jane's  company  upon  these  drives,  for  she 

in 


U2      ROUND  THE  CORNER 

was  conscious  that  they  attracted  considerable 
mdmiring  attention,  and  she  fancied  that  Jane's 
quiet  daintiness  of  attire  set  off  her  own  rather 
more  striking  style. 

Jane  laughed  at  the  notion  that  Murray  was 
not  strong  enough  to  put  himself  in  the  way  of 
being  stronger.  She  knew  it  was  Peter  who 
had  suggested  this  course  of  proceedings  in  re-» 
sponse  to  an  envious  comment  from  Murray, 
when  he  had  seen  Peter  scantily  garbed  for  some 
severe  physical  labor  about  the  house. 

"  Biceps  ?"  Peter  had  laughed,  as  Murray 
grasped  the  sinewy  arm  and  expressed  his  admira 
tion  for  the  fine  development  thereof.  "And 
deltoid  ?  —  Oh  yes,  that 's  easy.  If  your  par 
ticular  form  of  daily  toil  does  n't  give  you  muscle 
where  you  want  it,  get  it  for  yourself  with  exercise. 
You  can  build  up  anything  you  like  in  a  gym 
nasium  —  or  in  your  own  room,  if  you  have  the 
persistence." 

"You  could,  with  your  splendid  health  to 
begin  on,  of  course,"  Murray  replied,  with  a 
sigh,  for  he  had  begun  to  suspect  that  Peter's 
unusual  level-headedness  and  efficiency  came  in 
considerable  degree  from  his  well-developed  body. 

"So  could  you.  A  year  of  solid  work  with  a 
good  instructor  would  make  another  chap  of 
you.  Two  years,  an  athlete." 


IN  GAY  STREET  113 

"Oh,  no  —  not  with  my  constitution.'* 

"Your  constitution,  man!"  Peter  had  almost 
shouted.  "What's  constitution  ?  Something  to 
be  made  just  about  what  you  will  of.  Fellows 
with  a  direct  tendency  toward  consumption  have 
made  themselves  giants  by  living  outdoors  and 
sawing  wood." 

This  had  been  the  beginning,  the  first  result 
of  which  serious  talk  had  been  the  dumb-bells 
and  chest-weights  which  had  called  forth  Olive's 
suspicion  of  her  brother's  sanity. 

"But  he's  never  cared  for  anything  but  books 
-  and  to  be  let  alone,"  objected  Olive,  when 
Jane  replied  that  she  thought  nothing  better 
could  happen  to  Murray  than  to  become  interested 
in  building  up  his  physical  being.  "  It 's  just 
since  Forrest  has  been  gone  —  only  think,  that's 
six  weeks  now  —  that  Murray  has  been  at  this." 

"It's  telling  on  him  already,  too,"  said  Jane, 
feeling  a  sense  of  elation  over  the  fact  which  she 
could  not  quite  account  for.  "He  has  a  better 
colour.  I  noticed  it  yesterday." 

"  That  was  sunburn,"  declared  Olive,  skeptically. 
"He  spent  the  afternoon  lying  on  the  ground 
with  a  book  down  by  the  hedge,  right  squarely 
in  the  hot  August  sun.  I  think  it  was  ridiculous." 

"He's  lived  in  the  house  ever  so  much  more 
than  was  good  for  him,"  Jane  insisted,  gently. 


ii4  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"So  does  everybody  in  cities.  My  idea  of  happi 
ness  —  one  sort  —  is  a  day  on  my  grandfather's 
farm.  It  *s  only  about  ten  miles  out,  and  we  've 
a  plan.  Should  you,  Murray,  and  Shirley,  care  to 
spend  a  day  with  us  out  there  ?  A  sort  of  picnic, 
you  know.  Down  by  the  river  there  are  the 
loveliest  places  you  can  imagine,  and  Peter  says 
he  '11  take  you  fishing  if  you  care  for  it." 

"Indeed  I  should,  I  'm  sure,"  agreed  Olive, 
with  real  pleasure.  She  loved  new  sensations, 
and  the  notion  of  going  fishing  with  Peter  Bell 
appealed  to  her  strongly.  She  was  growing 
more  and  more  to  respect  and  admire  Peter; 
in  a  way,  it  was  true,  in  which  she  quite  failed  to 
appreciate  his  best  qualities,  but  in  which  she 
responded,  nevertheless,  to  those  which  his  family 
would  have  rated  as  his  second  best. 

"Don't  forget  the  picnic,"  was  Olive's  last 
word,  as  she  set  Jane  down  at  her  own  door 
"I  shall  begin  to  get  an  outing  hat  ready  now.** 

"If  I  should  forget,  Peter  would  remind  me 
It  *s  his  plan,"  Jane  reassured  her  —  a  fact  which 
of  itself  pleased  Olive,  for  she  was  confident  that 
it  meant  his  regard  for  her  entertainment. 

If  she  had  known,  however,  the  whole  plan 
was  a  plot  of  Peter's  for  Murray's  diversion. 

"The  fellow  's  worrying  about  something," 
Peter  had  said.  "He's  pitching  into  the  exercises 


IN  GAY  STREET  115 

I  showed  him,  but  his  mind  's  counting  against 
him.  I  know  what  he  wants  to  build  himself 
up  for.  He  told  me  that  if  he  had  to  be  the 
family's  sole  representative  in  the  matter  of 
sons  for  the  next  three  years,  he  wanted  to  put 
up  a  better  showing,  and  I  'm  decidedly  glad  he 
\akes  it  that  way.  I  'd  hate  myself  to  be  five 
feet  ten  and  weigh  only  one  hundred  and  thirty. 
Let 's  take  him  —  and  the  girls  if  you  like  — 
out  for  a  day  on  Grandfather  Bell's  farm.  What 
do  you  say  ?  Do  you  suppose  we  could  make 
the  thing  acceptable  to  Miss  Worthington 
Square  ?"  After  due  consideration  of  the  matter, 
and  some  consultation  with  her  mother,  Jane 
had  enthusiastically  agreed.  Now,  upon  return 
ing  from  the  drive,  she  was  able  to  tell  Peter  that 
Olive  had  accepted  the  invitation  with  alacrity. 

"What-  fishing  and  all?'*  he  laughed. 
"Really,  I  think  better  of  her  ladyship  than  ever 
for  coming  down  to  earth  like  that.  The  question 
is  now,  how  to  get  them  there  without  resorting 
to  hay-wagons  —  a  form  of  conveyance  I  judge 
Miss  Olive  would  n't  deign  to  accept." 

"Imagine  ore  lolling  up  to  the  porte-cockere 
on  the  Worthington  Square  front!"  and  Jane 
broke  into  such  a  merry  laugh  that  everybody 
joined  in  —  for  Jane  had  told  Peter  her  news 
at  the  dinner-table. 


n6  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"Let  Miss  Olive  and  Murray  and  Shirley 
drive  in  their  own  trap,  and  have  Pete  bring 
out  grandfather's  new  surrey  for  us.  I  'm  sure 
it 's  as  trim  a  looking  vehicle  as  any,  if  his  horses 
don't  have  quite  the  smartest  harness  going," 
suggested  Ross  McAndrew.  "The  horses  them 
selves  are  crack-a-jacks." 

"That  will  have  to  do,  I  think,"  Jane  agreed, 
"  though  it  seems  too  bad  to  ask  our  guests  to 
take  themselves." 

"No  matter  in  what  order  we  go,  you  '11  find 
we  '11  come  home  democratically  mixed  up," 
prophesied  Ross.  "I  defy  Miss  Worthington 
Square  to  withstand  the  leveling  influences  of  a 
day  on  Grandfather  Bell's  farm.  I  've  no  doubt 
Peter  will  drive  the  trap  home,  with  Rufe  hanging 
on  the  back  seat,  and  Murray  will  learn  what  it 
means  to  coax  a  pair  of  shy  farm  horses  past 
the  electric  cars.  As  for  me,  I  may  come  home 
as  jockey  on  young  Major's  back,  the  city  youth 
having  proved  not  up  to  the  situation." 

With  such  merry  comments  the  preparation 
for  the  picnic  was  made.  And  if  the  Bells  had 
known  it,  their  guests  looked  forward  to  the 
affair  with  quite  as  pleasant  anticipations  as 
themselves.  When  the  day  came  —  a  sultry 
August  morning,  with  signs  of  thunder-showers 
in  the  west  —  Olive  and  Murray  and  Shirley 


IN  GAY   STREET  117 

found  themselves  as  willing  to  risk  a  possible 
wetting  as  the  Bells  themselves,  who  never 
minded  such  small  things  as  thunder-showers 
in  the  least. 

The  farm  horses  —  Grandfather  Bell's  pride, 
and  with  reason,  for  they  were  a  fine  pair  of 
blacks  —  led  the  way,  the  new  surrey  carrying 
such  a  jolly  company  that  the  guests,  following 
close  behind  in  the  smart  trap,  tried  in  vain  to 
rival  their  hilarity.  The  three  Townsends  were 
all  arrayed  in  white  linen  from  head  to  foot, 
and  presented  a  cool  and  attractive  spectacle; 
but  Murray's  eyes  watched  with  envy  the  parti 
coloured  group  in  the  conveyance  ahead,  and 
Olive  reluctantly  owned  to  herself  that  Jane's 
fresh  little  blue  cotton  frock,  while  better  suited 
to  a  farm  picnic  than  one  of  white  linen,  was  also 
a  charming  spot  of  colour  upon  the  landscape. 

"Now,  who's  going  fishing?"  called  back 
Peter,  as  he  drove  his  steeds  briskly  in  through 
Grandfather  Bell's  gateway,  followed  by  the  trap 
at  its  best  pace.  "  It 's  clouding  over  now,  so 
that  we  ought  to  have  some  good  sport  —  if  the 
rain  holds  off,  and  I  think  it  will,  judging  by  the 
wind.  Grandfather  Bell  can  tell  us  that,"  he 
added,  as  a  tall  old  man  of  a  hale  and  vigorous 
aspect  came  out  of  the  house  to  greet  his  guests. 

"The  rain  won't  bother  you  before  afternoon, 


li8  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

I  guess,"  prophesied  Grandfather  Bell,  shaking 
hands  cordially  with  his  guests.  "When  it 
does,  you  'd  better  put  for  the  house.  You  can 
have  your  picnic  indoors,  where  you  won't  get 
your  clothes  wet,"  and  his  glance  fell  on  the 
three  white-clad  young  people  from  the  city. 

"Never  mind  our  clothes,"  said  Murray.  "We 
were  thinking  of  the  hot  day  coming  when  we 
put  them  on.  It  would  have  been  more  sensible 
to  dress  like  you  fellows,"  and  he  glanced  from 
Ross's  worn  gray  corduroys  to  Peter's  faded  blue 
flannels,  in  which  costumes  both  young  men 
looked  ruggedly — and  not  unattractively — ready 
for  roughing  it. 

"Picnics  appeal  to  people  from  different  points 
of  view,"  suggested  Ross.  "Now,  Miss  Olive 
can  certainly  sit  on  a  rock  and  watch  Peter, 
Rufe,  Nan  and  myself  fish,  giving  us  practical 
suggestions  from  time  to  time  —  in  a  whisper. 
Perhaps  she  '11  photograph  us  with  that  camera 
she  has  there.  But  I  would  advise  that  Mr. 
Murray  Townsend,  Miss  Shirley  Townsend, 
and  Miss  Jane  Bell,  sit  apart  on  some  mossy 
bank  and  read  some  pleasant  tale  about  fishing." 

"Nonsense.  You  talk  like  a  stage  manager," 
jeered  Peter.  "  Miss  Olive  's  going  to  do  some 
real  fishing  if  Grandmother  Bell  has  to  lend  het 
a  dress  to  go  home  in  —  and  so  are  the  rest 


IN  GAY  STREET  119 

Fishing  is  the  first  thing  on  this  programme 
and  fishing  is  to  be  done.  You  saw  to  the  rods 
and  lines,  Rufe  —  where  are  they  ?" 

Rufe  raced  away  to  the  barns,  and  came  back 
with  a  full  fishing  equipment  for  everybody. 
After  greeting  Grandmother  Bell,  a  pleasant 
little  old  lady,  with  a  varm  welcome  for  every 
one,  the  party  proceeded  through  the  orchard 
and  down  a  long,  maple-shaded  lane  to  the  river 
—  a  picturesque  spot,  which  had  been  the  para 
dise  of  the  Bell  family  from  its  earliest  recollections. 

Here  sport  reigned  for  an  hour,  although  few 
fish  were  caught.  The  spirit  of  hilarity  ruled 
the  holiday  too  thoroughly  to  admit  of  much 
wooing  of  the  frightened  prey;  but  nobody  minded 
except  Rufus,  who  finally  left  the  others  and 
wandered  away  up-stream,  whence  he  returned 
after  a  time,  triumphant,  with  a  respectable 
showing  of  fish. 

"The  clouds  don't  look  as  threatening  as  they 
did.  Could  n't  we  climb  that  small  hill  on  the 
other  side  of  the  river  ?  I  Ve  been  looking  at 
that  winding  path  for  an  hour,  wishing  I  could 
see  where  it  leads,"  said  Murray  to  Jane,  propping 
his  fishing-rod  against  a  tree. 

"  It  leads  to  a  little  hemlock  grove,  and  a  field  of 
corn  beyond,"  answered  Jane,  fanning  her  flushed 
and  laughing  face  with  her  wide-brimmed  hat. 


120  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"Oh,  don't  tell  me!  Come  and  explore  it 
with  me,  will  you  ?"  Murray  gave  her  such  a 
pleading  look  that  she  could  not  refuse  him, 
although  she  and  Peter  had  agreed  that  this 
picnic  was  not  to  be  a  "pairing  off"  affair,  because 
that  would  leave  Ross  in  the  lurch,  and  Ross 
had  been  working  hard  of  late,  and  needed  an 
outing,  his  cousins  thought,  more  than  anybody. 

"We  '11  just  go  over  and  back,  if  you  like  — 
to  satisfy  your  curiosity,5'  and  Jane  let  him  walk 
away  with  her. 

They  slowly  climbed  the  hill  path,  Murray 
stopping  to  cut  himself  a  stout  staff  in  lieu  of 
the  cane  he  no  longer  used.  "I  shall  always 
be  lame,"  he  said  to  Jane,  "but  I  'm  not  going 
to  depend  on  canes  any  longer,  except  for  such 
special  occasions  as  this.  Do  you  know,  I  think 
I  'm  growing  a  shade  brawnier  —  thanks  to 
Peter's  training." 

"I'm  sure  you  are;  you  look  it,"  responded 
Jane,  warmly,  "and  I  'm  so  glad." 

"There  has  been  wonderful  work  done  in  the 
world  by  people  in  ill  health.  But  I  'm  afraid 
I  could  never  be  a  Carlyle  or  a  Stevenson,  no 
matter  how  bright  the  fires  of  genius  burned. 
They  worked  for  the  love  of  it,  but  when  the 
task  a  fellow  sees  before  him  is  one  he  dislikes, 
he  certainly  needs  the  backing  of  a  sound  body/' 


IN  GAY  STREET  121 

As  they  attained  the  top  of  the  hill,  panting 
a  little  for  breath,  Murray  stared  ahead  into  the 
hemlock  grove. 

"  That 's  a  cool-looking  spot.  Can't  we  sit 
down  there  a  few  minutes  ?  I  '11  have  to  rest  a 
bit  before  I  do  more,"  he  urged.  "It's  three 
years  since  I  climbed  a  hill  like  that  —  just  the 
day  before  I  had  my  accident.  I  seem  to  have 
got  started  on  the  uninteresting  subject  of  myself, 
so  I  may  as  well  go  on  a  little  further  and  tell 
you  my  plans  about  the  same  chap,  if  you  don't 
mind  listening." 

"I  'd  love  to  hear  them.  Here's  a  fine  mossy 
spot,  and  two  trees  to  lean  against,"  and  Jane 
dropped  at  the  foot  of  one  of  the  trees  she  had 
pointed  out.  Murray,  casting  aside  his  stick, 
threw  himself  down  at  full  length  near  by,  his 
arms  clasped  under  his  head. 

"Ah,  this  is  great!"  he  murmured.  "Smell 
those  balsams  ?  It  makes  one  want  to  live 
outdoors.  And  that 's  what  I  'm  thinking  of 
doing." 

"  Really  ?  How  ?  Will  you  pitch  a  tent  on 
the  lawn  ?  That  would  be  fine  for  you,  and 
we  should  all  envy  you." 

"No,  I  want  a  more  radical  change  to  outdoor 
life  than  that  —  or  at  least  I  want  the  results, 
I  Ve  made  up  my  mind  that  to  live  my  life  out 


122  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

as  a  bookish  invalid,  if  I  might  do  better,  is  'too 
poor  a  way  of  playing  the  game  of  life,'  as  one 
author  I  like  immensely  puts  it.  I  shall  stick 
to  the  books  all  I  can,  but  —  I  want  some  good 
red  blood  in  my  veins  besides." 

Forrest's  words  spoken  weeks  ago,  charging 
Murray  with  the  very  lack  of  "red  blood,"  came 
to  Jane's  mind,  and  she  smiled  and  sighed^ 
thinking  what  a  change  those  weeks  had  made 
in  the  relations  of  the  two  brothers.  And  here 
was  Murray  wishing  for  the  very  thing  the  want 
of  which  his  vigorous  brother  had  deplored. 

"  I  'm  sure  you  can  have  it,  and  all  the  good 
things  that  go  with  it." 

"Which  are  many,  as  you  people  have  already 
taught  me.  Honestly,  it 's  seeing  your  family  so 
alive  and  hearty  and  happy  that's  brought  me 
*o  be  dissatisfied  with  myself.  I  'm  going  to 
have  need  of  all  I  can  put  into  Murray  Townsend, 
and  so  —  I  've  about  made  up  my  mind " 

He  hesitated,  pulling  a  hemlock  branch  through 
his  slim  fingers  with  nervous  energy.  Then  he 
began  again:  "I  've  been  reading  a  lot  lately 
about  life  on  one  of  those  Western  ranches  — 
real  ranch  life,  I  mean;  not  Eastern  play  at  it 
I  Ve  a  cousin  who  went  to  Montana  six  yeari 
ago.  I  get  a  letter  from  him  once  in  a  while. 
He's  a  Westerner  now,  full-fledged.  I  doubt 


IN  GAY  STREET  123 

if  he  ever  comes  East  again  to  stay.  I  Ve  written 
him  to  ask  if  he  has  any  room  for  a  tenderfoot 
on  his  ranch,  and  if  he  says  he  '11  take  me  in, 
I  think  I  '11  go." 

"Right  away?" 

"  Right  away,  if  father  agrees  —  and  I  think 
he  will.  He  '11  be  only  too  glad  to  have  me  take 
the  chance  of  making  a  man  out  of  myself,  in 
stead  of  a  bloodless  bookworm."  Murray  turned 
over  with  a  short  laugh,  and  propping  his  chin 
on  his  elbows,  lay  looking  at  Jane. 

"How  long  shall  you  stay?" 

"Long  enough  to  do  the  business.  A  year, 
if  necessary.  When  I  come  back,  I  '11  probably 
be  wearing  leather  leggings  with  fringes,  a  hand-* 
kerchief  round  my  neck,  and  a  sombrero.  I  Ve 
no  doubt  the  cowboys  will  have  played  tricks 
enough  on  me  to  prove  satisfactorily  to  all  con 
cerned  whether  I  'm  a  man  or  a  mushroom." 

Jane  looked  steadily  down  at  the  face  below 
her,  and  realised  that  it  was  a  face  of  strength 
as  well  as  of  fineness.  The  eyes  which  met 
hers  were  enlivened  by  a  determination  she  had 
never  seen  in  them  before,  and  her  answer  brought 
into  them  a  light  which  surprised  and  pleased 
her. 

"I  think  it's  the  best  plan  in  the  world,"  she 
said,  heartily,  "and  I  know  it  will  succeed. 


124  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

Nobody  ever  set  himself  to  accomplishing  anything 
without  accomplishing  either  that  thing  or  some 
thing  better." 

"What  could  the  'something  better*  be  in  my 
case  ?" 

"  I  don't  know.     Do  you  ?" 

The  question  was  a  challenge.  Murray  sat 
up.  A  tinge  of  red  crept  into  his  cheek.  "Yes, 
I  know,"  he  answered.  "So  do  you,  I  think. 
You  put  it  into  my  head.  Am  I  a  coward, 
that  I  can't  decide  to  give  myself  over  to  my 
father  and  the  business  ?" 

"No.  But  you  are  planning  to  put  your 
shoulder  to  his  wheel  somehow  —  I  know  you 
are,  or  you  would  n't  be  trying  so  hard  to 
strengthen  that  shoulder." 

"You're  a  wizard — or  a  witch."  Murray 
spoke  soberly;  then  he  laughed,  as  the  two  pairs 
of  eyes  met,  and  he  caught  the  fire  in  Jane's, 
"Are  you  always  so  sure  of  your  friends  ?" 

"Always.  If  I  have  a  friend,  I  believe  in  — • 
her  —  whether  she  wants  me  to  or  not.  She 
always  proves  me  right." 

"Suppose  it's  'him'?" 

"I   don't   know  so   much   about  the   'hims," 
said     Jane,     "except    my    brothers.     The    rule 
works  with  them." 

"You   must   be   an   inspiring   sister.     You  've 


IN  GAY  STREET  125 

brothers  enough  already,  I  suppose,  but  I  wish 
you  'd  adopt  another.  My  sister  —  she  can't  be 
far  from  your  age,  but  she  seems  years  younger. 
She  has  n't  thought  about  things  the  way  you 
have.  Look  here!  If  I  go  to  Montana  for  a 
year,  I  shall  be  pretty  lonesome  sometimes,  I 
expect.  Will  you  let  me  write  to  you  ?" 

"It  would  be  great  fun,"  answered  Jane, 
simply,  "to  have  letters  from  a  real  cowboy 
with  six-shooters  in  his  belt." 

"I  '11  take  them  out  when  I  write  to  you. 
Must  we  go  back  ?  Well,  if  you  think  we  ought 
—  though  I  'd  like  to  lie  here  all  day  and  dream 
dreams  about  the  great  things  I  'm  going  to  do. 
But  a  fellow  can't  dream  much  in  the  society 
of  the  Bells  —  he  has  to  be  up  and  doing." 

'  With  a  heart  for  any  fate,' ' '  quoted  Jane, 
blithely,  as  she  led  the  way.  "I  '11  tell  you  a 
better  motto  than  that,  though,  fine  as  it  is." 

"  What  is    it  ?     Give  it  to  me,  will  you  ?" 

"  I  '11  write  it  out  for  you." 

"When?" 

"To-morrow,  perhaps." 

"To-day,  please.     I  'm    an    impatient    chap." 

"Very    well.     You    shall    have    it    when    we 
get  home.    It 's  one  I  can't  talk  about,  somehow 
-  it  gives  me  a  choke  in  my  throat  —  I  don't 
know  why." 


126  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

Hours  later  Murray  found  out  why.  By  the 
time  he  and  Jane  had  rejoined  the  rest  of  the 
party  the  threatening  storm-clouds  had  brought 
the  promised  rain.  The  lunch  had  to  be  eaten  in 
Grandmother  Bell's  pleasant  kitchen,  but  the 
guests  enjoyed  it  almost  as  much  as  they  could  have 
done  in  the  sylvan  spot  that  Peter  had  picked 
out.  By  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  storm 
had  passed.  It  had  cooled  the  air  a  little,  so 
that  it  was  possible  for  the  party  to  spend  thre« 
long  and  delightful  hours  upon  the  river  before 
going  home. 

"We  three  in  what  was  once  white,"  said 
Murray,  as  he  stood  by  the  trap,  "are  a  pretty 
sorry-looking  crowd  to  go  back  all  together. 
Why  may  I  not  change  places  with  Peter,  and 
drive  the  Bell  family  home  ?" 

Ross  chuckled  as  he  winked  at  Jane,  and  she 
recalled  his  prophecy  of  some  days  earlier.  But 
it  was  he  and  Nancy  who  took  the  back  seat  of 
the  trap,  leaving  Rufus  and  Shirley  in  the  surrey, 
to  carry  on  an  acquaintance  which  had  developed 
to  great  friendliness  in  the  Townsend  tennis-court, 
where  the  children  had  played  every  evening 
throughout  the  summer. 

Up  in  his  own  room  Murray  took  from  his 
pocket  a  slip  of  paper  Jane  had  given  him  as 
she  said  good  night,  and  unfolding  it  as  if  i* 


IN  GAY  STREET  127 

were  a  message  from  a  royal  hand,  he  read  it 
slowly  through.  The  expectation  of  this  mes* 
sage  had  been  warm  all  through  the  pleasant 
drive  home  in  the  twilight. 

The  words  of  Jane's  quotation  were  these: 
—  and  as  it  happened  that  he  had  never  seen 
them  before,  they  came  to  him  at  this  crisis  of 
his  life  with  peculiar  force. 

"  Life  is  an  arrow  —  therefore  you  must  know 
What  mark  to  aim  at,  how  to  use  the  bow  — 
Then  draw  it  to  the  head,  and  let  it  go!  " 

There  was  a  little  constriction  in  Murray's  own 
throat  as  he  studied  the  brave  words.  He  saw 
at  a  flash  their  deeper  meaning.  "  Make  myself 
fit  to  live  my  life,"  he  thought  "and  then  — 
whether  it 's  the  life  I  want  to  live  or  not  —  let 
it  go!  Jane,  you  know  how  to  fit  the  arrow  to 
my  hand  —  bless  you !  I  will  draw  it  to  the 
head  —  and  let  it  go  !  " 


CHAPTER  IX 

SNAP  SHOTS 

A  LETTER  from  Montana  for  Miss  Jane 
Bell/*  observed  Peter,  distributing  the 
mail  at  the  breakfast-table  one  May  morning, 
nine  months  after  the  picnic  at  Grandfather 
Bell's  farm.  "It  strikes  me  these  Montana 
letters  are  beginning  to  arrive  with  astonishing 
regularity." 

"They  began,"  declared  Ross,  enjoying  the 
sight  of  the  sudden  colour  in  Jane's  face,  as  she 
tucked  the  letter  into  her  belt  and  tried  vainly 
to  look  unconscious  as  she  went  on  serving  the 
family  from  a  big  dish  of  oatmeal  porridge, 
*'  by  coming  modestly  once  in  about  three  or  four 
weeks.  Then  they  got  to  once  a  fortnight  — 
that  was  in  midwinter.  Along  about  April " 

"If  I  were  a  big,  grown  man,"  murmured 
Jane,  "I  'd  never  condescend  to  keep  track 
of " 

"Along  in  April,"  pursued  Ross,  unmoved, 
"once  in  ten  days  was  the  schedule.  But  this 
last,  coming  as  it  does  just  one  short  week  after 


IN  GAY  STREET 

its  predecessor,  and  carrying,  as  it  does,  two 
large  red  postage-stamps  —  which,  I  am  confi 
dent,  is  underpayment  — 

"Stop  teasing!"  cried  Nancy,  always  loyal  to 
her  sister.  "Every  one  of  you  is  envying  Jane, 
wishing  you  could  have  letters  from  a  real  cow* 
boy." 

"A  real  cowboy!"  laughed  Ross.  "I  think 
I  see  Murray  Townsend  getting  himself  up  in 
that  rig.  With  his  pale  face  and  thin  shoulders 
he  'd  look  like  the  tenderest  kind  of  a  tenderfoot." 

Jane  pulled  the  letter  out  of  her  belt.  The 
previous  letter  had  promised  that  this  one  should 
bring  some  snap-shot  pictures  of  the  writer  and 
his  surroundings.  She  hoped,  as  she  broke  the 
seal,  that  she  should  find  them,  feeling  sure  that 
the  extra  thick  letter  indicated  that  it  carried  the 
promised  enclosures. 

As  she  pulled  out  the  sheets  a  little  packet 
of  blue-prints  dropped  into  her  lap.  She  picked 
them  up  and  fell  to  looking  at  them.  Peter, 
sitting  next  to  her,  laughed  to  himself,  as  he 
reached  for  his  dish  of  oatmeal,  Jane  having 
forgotten  to  serve  him.  But  everybody  forgot 
breakfast,  as  the  blue-prints  went  round  the  table. 
All  but  one  were  scenes  of  ranch  and  camp  life^ 
bringing  into  view  horses  and  cowboys  of  all  sorts 
and  conditions,  each  carefullv  labelled  with  its 


130  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

descriptive  title.  But  the  one  at  the  bottom  of 
the  pack  was  called  "the  tenderfoot"-  — the  only 
one  of  the  set  in  which  Jane's  correspondent 
was  in  evidence. 

"Can  it  be  possible  this  is  Murray  ?"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Bell,  studying  incredulously  the  erect  figure 
on  horseback,  life  and  energy  in  every  outline, 
from  the  tilt  of  the  wide  hat  to  the  set  of  the  leg 
in  the  saddle.  "Why,  he  looks  as  if  he  weighed 
thirty  pounds  more  than  when  he  went  away." 

"By  George,  the  fellow  hasn't  roughed  it 
nearly  a  year  for  nothing,  has  he  ?"  admitted 
Ross.  "He  doesn't  look  the  stage  cowboy, 
either  —  I  '11  say  that  for  him.  Those  clothes 
have  seen  wear  and  rain,  and  that  hat  has  had 
the  true  Western  shape  knocked  into  it.  It 
makes  you  envy  him,  does  n't  it  ?" 

Peter  said  nothing,  but  his  eyes  dwelt  upon 
the  figure  in  the  saddle  with  a  look  of  longing 
so  intense  that  if  anyone  had  been  observing 
him  it  must  have  told  his  story  plainly.  One 
person  was  observing  him,  and  as  Peter  looked  up 
at  last,  wirh  an  involuntary  glance  at  his  father, 
who  had  just  made  some  observation  on  the  advan 
tage  it  had  been  to  the  rich  man's  son  to  get  out 
among  the  ranchmen  and  gain  a  new  view  of 
life,  he  met  his  father's  eyes.  Joseph  Bell  under 
stood  just  what  it  meant  to  Peter  to  stay  at  home 


IN  GAY  STREET  131 

and  work  as  foreman  in  a  note-paper  factory 
when  there  were  such  places  as  Montana  in 
the  world  waiting  for  young  men  to  come  and 
explore  them.  And  there  was  that  in  his  father's 
look  which  told  Peter  that  his  sacrifice  was 
appreciated. 

Up  in  her  own  room,  when  a  dozen  duties  had 
been  done,  Jane  read  her  letter.  It  was  to  her 
a  deeply  interesting  letter,  as  had  been  all  those 
which  came  before  it,  for  Murray  wielded  a 
graphic  pen,  and  his  pictures  of  the  sort  of  life 
he  had  been  living  were  vivid  as  colour-sketches. 
He  was  rejoicing  in  the  coming  of  spring  and 
summer,  after  the  long,  cold  winter,  and  his 
delight  seemed  to  Jane  so  unlike  any  pleasure 
in  outdoor  life  she  had  seen  him  show  at  home 
lhat  it  filled  her  with  joy.  The  letter  said,  as  it 
neared  the  close  and  fell  into  the  personal  vein, 
as  letters  do: 

I  never  knew  before  what  it  was  to  breathe  way  down  to 
the  bottom  of  my  lungs.  My  existence  —  after  my  accident, 
and  up  to  the  time  I  came  here  —  seems  now  to  me  like  that 
of  some  pale  monk  in  his  cell,  feeding  on  other  men's  thoughts, 
but  never  living  them  himself.  I  Ve  learned  to  live!  You, 
who  have  long  known  that  secret,  will  be  glad  with  me,  won't 
you  ? 

All  through  the  winter  I  was  wrapped  to  the  eyes  when 
ever  I  put  my  head  out  of  the  cabin  door.  Men  dress  warmly 
here  in  the  winter  —  flannel-lined  canvas  overcoats — "blanket 
coats*1  they  call  them  —  felt  boots,  and  all  that.  But  they 


I32  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

don't  make  grannies  of  themselves  as  I  did  —  at  first.  As  die 
winter  advanced,  though,  I  began  to  get  hardened  to  it,  and 
before  spring  I  could  stand  a  pretty  low  temperature  without 
feeling  my  blood  congeal.  But  when  spring  came  —  spring 
in  this  Western  country!  I  wish  I  could  describe  it.  The 
air  like  wine,  the  sunshine  like  —  nothing  I  can  think  of. 
When  spring  came  I  began  to  expand  mentally  and  physically 
—  and  in  still  another  way,  I  think.  Anyhow,  I  'm  not  the 
same  fellow  who  went  to  the  doctor  for  an  outfit  of  drugs 
before  he  dared  start  West. 

I  've  learned  a  lot  from  these  men  I  've  been  associated 
with.  A  rough  set  they  would  seem  to  you,  most  of  them 
• — they  did  to  me  at  first.  But  when  I  got  to  know  them, 
underneath  the  roughness  I  found  —  men.  It 's  no  use  trying 
to  put  it  into  a  letter.  I  must  talk  with  you,  face  to  face  — 
and  just  what  that  means  to  me  when  I  think  of  it  I  won't 
venture  to  say.  I  '11  be  home  in  the  fall,  and  then  —  I  *m 
going  into  my  father's  business.  I  have  n't  said  that  before, 
have  I  ?  You  '11  please  not  mention  it  to  anyone,  except 
Peter,  if  you  like;  I  want  to  surprise  father.  That 's  going 
to  be  my  reward  for  doing  my  duty.  It  is  my  duty  —  I  see 
It  plainly  at  last,  and  every  ounce  of  determination  I  can 
grow  from  now  till  fall  is  going  to  be  just  so  much  more  to 
offer  him.  But  I  won't  brag  about  that.  Do  the  best  I  can, 
it  won't  be  a  wonderful  gift,  for  I  'm  afraid  my  talents  don't 
lie  in  that  direction.  But  if  honest  effort  can  make  up  — 
Jane,  I  have  n't  watched  some  of  these  heroic  chaps  for 
nothing.  I  'm  simply  shamed  into  taking  my  medicine,  and 
shutting  my  mouth  tight  after  it.  And  that 's  the  last  word 
about  it 's  being  medicine.  I  'm  going  to  get  interested  in 
the  business  if  pitching  in  all  over  will  do  it. 

This  is  a  long  letter,  and  I  'm  done  —  except  to  tell  you 
that  the  West  does  n't  deserve  all  the  credit  for  my  altered 
views  of  life.  A  certain  girl  I  know,  who  wanted  to  go  to 
college,  but  gave  up  all  thought  of  it  because,  besides  the 


IN  GAY  STREET  133 

family,  her  father  and  brothers  had  half  a  dozen  helpless 
elderly  relatives  to  support,  is  n't  the  poorest  sort  of  inspira 
tion  to  her  friend,  when  he  happens  to  be  a  fellow  who  never 
gave  up  anything  for  anybody  in  his  life.  He  values  her 
friendship  far  more  than  he  dares  to  tell  her  now.  Somebody 
—  Ruskin  ? — said  a  knight's  armour  never  fitted  him  quite 
so  well  as  when  the  lady's  hand  had  braced  it  —  and  I  'm 
beginning  to  understand  what  that  rather  picturesque  meta 
phor  may  mean.  Do  I  sound  sentimental,  and  are  you  laugh 
ing  at  me  ?  Don't  do  it!  I  Ve  not  a  "gun"  in  my  belt,  but 
I'm  rather  a  rough  looking  customer  nevertheless.  I  came 
in  an  hour  ago,  wet  to  the  skin  —  caught  out  in  a  cloudburst 
without  my  slicker  —  and  while  my  clothes  dry  am  attired 
in  my  cousin's  (seven  sizes  too  big!)  being  averse  to  putting 
on  any  of  the  clothes  in  my  trunk,  the  foolish  clothes  of 
civilisation. 

I  weigh  one  hundred  and  sixty-five.  What  do  you  think 
of  that  ?  And  it 's  not  flesh,  but  worked-on  muscle  and  sinew. 
Did  I  say  I  was  done  ?  I  am.  But  I  am  also 

Faithfully  your  friend, 

MURRAY  TOWNSEND. 

"You  look  it,"  agreed  Jane,  studying  the  photo 
graph.  "You  certainly  look  it."  She  gave 
the  little  print  one  more  careful  examination, 
noting  the  steady  gaze  the  pictured  face  gave  back, 
a  spirited  expression  very  different  from  the  half- 
moody  look  she  had  first  known;  then  she  put  the 
photographs  away  and  went  about  her  work.  And 
as  she  went,  a  little  song  sang  itself  over  and  over 
in  her  heart  —  the  song  of  trust  in  a  ripening 
friendship  of  the  sort  that  makes  life  worth  living. 

Spring  and  summer  passed  slowly  by,  marking  a 


I34  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

growing  interchange  of  amenities  between  the  little 
house  in  Gay  Street  and  the  big  one  in  Worth- 
ington  Square.  Things  had  happened  during 
the  winter,  things  kept  on  happening  as  the  year 
advanced,  to  draw  the  two  families  together. 
In  January  Shirley  had  had  a  long  and  severe 
illness,  during  which  Mrs.  Bell  and  Jane  made 
their  way  into  the  inmost  heart  of  every  member 
of  the  household.  There  were  nights  during 
that  illness  when  Joseph  Bell,  feeling  that  differ 
ence  of  social  position  counted  for  nothing  when 
a  father  was  in  trouble,  went  over  to  shake  Harrison 
Townsend's  hand,  bidding  him  be  of  courage  — 
and  found  himself  detained  as  a  friend  in  need. 

By  and  by,  when  the  anxiety  was  over  and  the 
Bells  ceased  coming  often  in  and  out,  the  Towns- 
ends  began  to  summon  them.  Mr.  Townsend  dis-- 
covered  the  shrewd  wisdom  and  genial  philosophy 
of  Joseph  Bell  to  be  of  value,  and  often  went  to 
sit  with  him  in  the  little  front  room,  where  his 
eyes  noted  with  approval  the  rows  of  books.  He 
discovered  that  Armstrongs's  head  man  knew 
more  that  lay  between  the  covers  of  those  books 
than  did  Harrison  Townsend  himself. 

As  for  Mrs.  Townsend  and  Mrs.  Bell,  while 
they  were  too  different  in  temperament  and  taste 
to  get  far  into  each  other's  lives,  they  found 
enough  in  common  to  bring  them  together  rather 


IN  GAY  STREET  135 

oftener  than  could  naturally  have  been  expected. 
There  was  a  quiet  poise  about  Mrs.  Bell  which 
the  other  woman,  accomplished  woman  of  the 
world  though  she  was,  could  only  study  in  despaif 
of  ever  being  able  to  attain.  But  she  found 
a  rest  and  refreshment  in  her  neighbour's  society 
which  none  of  her  more  fashionable  friends 
could  give  her,  and  she  sent  often  for  Mrs.  Bell 
to  keep  her  company. 

"Olive's  taken  one  big  step  in  advance," 
Peter  said  to  his  mother,  one  day  in  early  summer. 
"She  has  begun  to  write  regularly  to  Forrest." 

"I'm  very  glad,"  said  Mrs.  Bell.  "Does  he 
answer  her  letters  ?" 

"  He  does  —  only  too  glad  to,  I  should  say. 
She's  shown  me  some  of  his  letters.  There  's 
a  homesick  grunt  to  them,  that 's  sure.  Life  in 
the  army,  and  particularly  life  in  the  Philippines, 
is  n't  unmitigated  bliss,  and  he's  finding  it  out. 
He  does  n't  exactly  squeal,  but  you  can  see  how 
\t  is  with  him." 

"  It  will  do  Olive  good  to  take  up  such  a  sisterly 
duty.  Was  it  your  suggestion  ?"  asked  Mrs. 
Bell. 

*'  How  did  you  guess  that  ?  I  did  give  her  a 
talk  one  day,  when  she  happened  to  say  that 
Shirley  was  the  only  one  of  the  family  who  wrote  to 
Forrest  with  any  regularity.  She  was  pretty  angry 


136  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

with  me  for  a  day  or  two,  but  she  came  round, 
and  now  she  writes  once  a  fortnight.  There  *s 
really  more  to  that  girl  than  you  would  think." 

"She  is  improving  very  much,  I  am  sure/' 
agreed  his  mother,  warmly.  "With  a  different 
early  training,  Olive  would  have  been  by  now 
a  much  more  lovable  girl  than  she  has  seemed. 
But,  happily,  it  's  not  too  late  to  give  her  new 
ideals,  and  I  think  you  have  helped  in  that 
direction.** 

"Ideals?"  mused  Peter.  "I  don't  think  I 
have  any  of  those  —  at  least,  I  don't  call  them 
by  that  name.  Rules  of  the  game  —  how  will 
that  do,  instead  ?  The  foreman  of  Room  8  in  a 
note-paper  factory  is  n't  supposed  to  have  ideals, 
is  he  ?" 

"I  don't  know  about  that.  Suppose  you  ask 
the  men  and  women  under  you.  I  fancy  they 
would  protest  your  ideals  were  pretty  hard  for 
them  to  live  up  to  ?" 

Peter  laughed  to  himself.  "Maybe  they 
would.  But  they  would  n't  put  it  that  way. 
'The  boss  is  a  tough  one  to  suit/  they  'd  say  " 

"Call  it  what  you  will  —  rules  of  the  game, 
if  you  like.  But,  as  the  children  used  to  say, 
Teter  Bell  plays  fair!'  " 

"I  hope  he  does.  If  he  doesn't,  it  isn't  the 
fault  of  his  trainer."  And  the  gray  eyes  met 


IN  GAY  STREET  137 

the  brown  ones  for  an  instant  in  a  glance  which 
said  many  things  Peter  could  not  have  spoken. 

The  days  went  on;  June  gave  place  to  July; 
August  heat  melted  into  September  mildness; 
and  October,  with  its  falling  leaves,  marked  the 
end  of  the  days  of  outdoor  life  lived  from  April 
to  November  in  the  little  garden. 

"The  twenty-fifth  is  Jane's  birthday/*  observed 
Nancy  to  Shirley,  several  days  before  that  event. 
"We  're  wondering  what  to  do  in  celebration." 

"Why,  it's  mine,  too!"  cried  Shirley.  "How 
funny  that  we  did  n't  knew  it!  We  ought  to 
celebrate  it  together." 

This  remark  was  duly  reported  to  Mrs.  Bell, 
who  said  at  once  that  they  must  invite  Shirley 
over  to  have  her  birthday  cake  with  Jane's. 
But  before  this  plan  could  be  carried  into  effect, 
an  invitation  arrived  from  the  big  house,  asking 
every  member  of  the  Bell  household  to  be  present 
at  a  small  dinner  of  Shirley's  own  planning. 

"This  is  the  first  time  we  've  all  been  asked  over 
there  together  —  it's  quite  an  occasion,"  declared 
Peter,  on  the  evening  of  the  twenty-fifth,  as  he 
stood  waiting  in  the  doorway  for  everybody  to 
be  ready.  "I  say,"  he  exclaimed,  "but  we  're 
gorgeous!" 

And  he  fastened  admiring  eyes  on  his  mother, 
who  \vas  dressed  in  a  pale  gray  gown  of  her  own 


138  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

making,  and  therefore  of  faultless  effect.  The 
quality  was  fine  also,  for  Peter  had  looked  after 
that. 

"Gorgeous  doesn't  seem  exactly  the  word," 
Ross  commented.  "Demure  but  coquettish,  I 
should  call  that  gown." 

The  party  proceeded  in  a  body  to  the  corner 
of  Worthington  Square,  where  Jane,  under  escort 
of  Peter,  came  to  a  sudden  halt.  "Oh,  I  've 
forgotten  something  to  go  with  my  present  to 
Shirley,"  she  said  to  him.  "Give  me  the  key% 
please.  I  '11  run  back  and  get  it.  Don't  wait, 
I  want  to  slip  into  the  dining-room  over  there, 
anyway,  before  I  see  anybody,  and  I  '11  come 
in  by  the  side  door." 

So  Jane  ran  back  alone,  and  let  herself  into 
the  dark  house,  the  lamps  having,  for  safety, 
been  all  extinguished  before  the  family  went 
out.  She  hurriedly  lighted  the  lamp  in  the  front 
room,  for  she  meant  to  fill  out  a  card  with  a  certain 
appropriate  quotation,  to  put  with  Shirley's 
gift,  and  the  book  she  needed  was  in  this  room. 

The  quotation  was  not  as  easily  found  as  she 
had  thought  it  would  be,  and  hurriedly  searching 
for  it,  Jane  consumed  considerable  time,  but 
did  not  want  to  give  it  up,  for  the  words  fitted 
Shirley  delightfully,  and  would  give  point  to 
the  gift. 


IN  GAY  STREET  139 

So  bending  over  the  book,  still  unsuccessful, 
she  heard  with  regret  the  sound  of  a  quick  step 
upon  the  porch,  followed  by  a  ring  at  the  belL 
She  sprang  up,  book  in  hand,  wishing  she  had 
taken  her  affairs,  with  her  light,  into  the  dining- 
room.  Hoping  that  her  appearance,  in  her  evening 
frock,  would  warn  the  chance  visitor  that  the 
time  was  inopportune,  she  opened  the  door. 

"Jane!"  exclaimed  a  joyful  voice.  "Ah,  but 
this  is  good  luck!"  And  Jane  looked  up  into 
a  face  so  brown  and  rugged  and  strong  that 
for  an  instant  she  did  not  know  it.  But  the 
eyes  gazing  eagerly  into  her  own  told  her  in  the 
next  breath  who  stood  before  her.  She  put  out 
both  hands,  speechless  with  surprise.  They 
were  grasped  and  held,  as  Murray  Townsend 
closed  the  door  behind  him  with  a  sturdy  shoulder. 

"  I  —  you  —  why,  I  thought  you  were  n't  com 
ing  for  a  month  yet,"  she  said,  half  shyly,  for  in 
spite  of  the  smile  and  the  warm  handclasp,  it 
seemed  as  if  this  must  be  a  stranger  who  stood 
before  her,  radiating  health  and  happiness,  and 
looking  so  different  from  the  pale  young  man 
who  had  gone  away  a  year  before. 

"  I  was  hit  by  a  sudden  wave  of  homesickness  that 
swept  me  off  my  feet,"  Murray  explained,  releas 
ing  the  hands  which  were  gently  drawing  themselves 
away,  but  continuing  to  stare  down  at  the  engaging 


140  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

young  figure  in  its  modest  evening  attire,  as  if 
he  had  seen  nothing  so  attractive  in  all  Montana, 
in  spite  of  his  fine  tales  of  its  glories.  "I  began 
to  think  about  it,  and  that  was  fatal.  Once 
the  notion  of  coming  home  a  bit  ahead  of  the  date 
I  'd  set  took  hold  of  me,  I  was  no  more  use  to 
anybody.  They  told  me  to  pack  up  and  start, 
for  I  was  n't  fit  to  brand  a  calf,  and  could  n't  earn 
my  salt."  He  laughed.  "Tell  me  you  're  not 
sorry." 

"Indeed,  I  'm  not.  This  happens  to  be  my 
birthday,  and  it 's  the  nicest  surprise  I  've  had 
yet." 

"Thank  you  —  that's  the  welcome  I  wanted. 
But" — he  glanced  at  her  dress  again,  and  his 
face  fell  — "you  were  going  out  ?" 

"Only  to  Worthington  Square,"  laughed  Jane. 
"  It 's  Shirley's  birthday,  too,  and  we  're  all  to  be 
there  at  dinner.  Why,  you  must  know!  You  've 
just  come  from  there." 

"That  is  a  joke  on  me.  I  rang  —  no  latch-key, 
you  know  —  and  a  new  maid  I  've  never  seen 
let  me  in.  I  saw  everything  lighted  up  and 
flowers  all  about,  and  asked  if  they  were  enter 
taining.  She  said  they  were,  and  everybody 
was  dressing.  So  I  just  turned  and  ran,  thinking 
I  'd  slip  over  here  and  see  you  first,  since  I  could  n't 
see  much  of  my  family  till  the  affair  was  over- 


IN  GAY  STREET  141 

Well,  well  —  so  I  may  spend  the  evening  in  your 
company.  Talk  about  luck  !  " 

They  stood  there,  exchanging  questions  and 
replies  in  the  laughing,  disconnected  way  in 
which  people  are  wont  to  address  each  other  in 
the  first  excitement  of  an  unexpected  and  welcome 
meeting,  neither  of  them  knowing  quite  what  they 
were  saying,  but  each  feeling  that  somethingof  great 
importance  had  happened.  Then  Jane  gathered 
up  her  wraps  and  Shirley's  gift,  and  said,  with 
a  startled  glance  at  the  clock,  "It  is  later  than 
I  thought!  We  must  go  this  minute." 

"Shall  I  put  out  the  light?"  and  Murray 
strode  across  the  floor.  Jane  noted  with  gladness 
that  his  walk  was  the  walk  of  a  strong  man. 

They  crossed  the  street  to  the  hedge  gate,  and 
came  to  the  side  entrance.  As  he  put  his  thumb 
to  the  bell,  Murray  said,  half  under  his  breath, 
"  I  Ve  imagined  all  sorts  of  home-comings,  but 
never  one  quite  so  nice  as  this.  To  make  my 
entrance  with  you  - 

"Oh,  you  're  not  going  to  make  it  with  me!" 
said  Jane,  gaily.  "I  shall  stay  in  the  dining- 
room,  arranging  Shirley's  plate,  until  you  are 
safe  in  the  midst  of  them." 

And  plead  as  he  would,  Murray  found  there 
was  no  way  to  make  her  change  this  decision. 
So,  at  last,  hearing  the  voices  of  the  others 


542  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

in  the  big  hall,  where  they  were  gathered 
about  the  fireplace,  in  which  roared  a  royal 
October  fire,  he  went  to  the  door  and  opened  it 
a  crack.  From  this  position,  he  looked  back 
at  Jane,  where  she  stood  by  Shirley's  chair 
watching  him  across  the  gala  decorations  of 
roses  which  crowned  the  handsome  table. 

"I  'm  at  home  again!"  he  called  to  her  softly, 
and  she  nodded,  smiling. 

Then,  hat  in  hand,  he  threw  the  door  wide  and 
marched  through,  shoulders  back,  head  up, 
eyes  intent  upon  the  faces  which,  at  the  opening 
of  the  door,  had  turned  that  way. 


CHAPTER  X 

HIDE   AND    SEEK 

THERE  was  a  moment's  astonished  hush 
as  the  group  about  the  fire  stared  at  the 
erect  young  figure.  Then  Murray's  father  was 
the  first  across  the  floor  to  meet  him;  and  in  an 
instant  more  the  whole  family  was  upon  him, 
while  the  Bells  rose,  smiling,  to  do  him  honour. 

"My  dear  boy!"  There  was  a  great  gladness 
in  Harrison  Townsend's  voice  and  he  wrung  his 
son's  hand  as  if  he  would  wring  it  off.  Murray's 
mother,  too  —  he  had  not  known  she  was  capable 
of  so  much  tenderness,  and  he  kissed  her  with  a 
feeling  that  in  his  thoughts  he  had  n't  done  her 
love  for  him  justice. 

As  for  Olive  and  Shirley,  there  was  nothing 
lacking  in  the  way  they  showed  their  joy  in 
having  him  at  home  again.  Murray  himself, 
during  this  long  year  of  absence,  was  not  the 
only  one  who  had  learned  a  few  enlightening 
truths  about  the  great  business  of  living. 

To  the  full,  also,  Murray  enjoyed  the  surprising 
fact  that  the  Bells  were  grouped  about  the  fire 


i44  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

in  a  way  which  indicated  that  they  were  entirely 
at  home.  He  rejoiced  in  the  heartiness  with 
which  the  male  members  of  that  family  gripped 
his  hand  —  they  seemed  like  brothers.  And 
when  the  sweet-faced,  bright-eyed  lady  in  gray 
pressed  his  hand  in  both  her  own  and  looked 
at  him  as  if  her  pleasure  in  his  return  was 
very  great,  Murray,  -quite  unable  to  help  it, 
stooped  and  kissed  her  also.  Surely,  home 
coming  was  a  happier  thing  than  he  had  dared 
to  picture  it. 

He  was  off  upstairs  to  his  room  presently, 
while  word  was  sent  to  an  exasperated  cook  to 
delay  the  dinner  yet  a  little  longer.  In  less 
time  than  could  have  been  expected,  however, 
Murray  was  down  again,  and  in  his  evening 
clothes  showed  even  more  plainly  than  before  the 
astonishing  increase  in  his  weight. 

"These  shoulders,"  cried  Peter,  inspecting 
them,  "can  they  be  the  shoulders  of  the  delicate 
young  gentleman  who  went  away  last  year  looking 
so  long  and  lean  and  lank  ?  I  wonder  you  could 
get  them  into  your  coat." 

"I  couldn't,"  Murray  answered,  laughing 
"I  had  to  borrow  father's  dinner-jacket  and 
one  of  his  waistcoats." 

"It  was  fortunate  for  you  that  the  old  coat 
was  n't  given  away  when  the  new  one  came  home," 


IN  GAY  STREET  145 

his  father  observed,  regarding  the  shoulders  in 
evidence  with  great  satisfaction. 

They  went  out  to  dinner  in  the  gayest  spirits, 
and  if  everybody  remembered  with  regret  the 
one  absent,  everybody  still  rejoiced  that  this 
promising  son  of  the  house  was  once  more  at 
its  board.  For  there  could  be  no  question  that 
che  eldest  son  looked  now  a  fit  representative  of 
the  family  of  Townsend. 

The  dinner  which  followed  was  an  elaborate 
one,  for  it  was  not  within  the  range  of  the  hostess's 
notions  to  entertain  in  any  simple  fashion,  even 
when  the  occasion  was  the  birthday  of  a  fourteen- 
year-old.  But  the  young  people  at  the  board 
succeeded  in  infusing  so  much  of  their  own 
joyousness  into  the  affair  that  the  time  passed 
swiftly.  There  were  birthday  gifts  at  Jane's 
plate  as  well  as  at  Shirley's,  and  it  would  have 
been  hard  to  tell,  at  the  close  of  the  feast,  which 
pair  of  cheeks  was  the  pinker,  or  which  pair 
of  eyes  the  brighter.  It  is  safe  to  guess 
however,  that  there  were  elements  in  the  pleasure 
of  one  recipient  which  must  have  been  lacking 
in  that  of  the  other,  and  that  the  presence  of 
one  birthday  guest  counted  for  more  to  her  than 
all  the  gifts  put  together.  The  fact  that  she  could 
hardly  look  up  without  encountering  the  interested 
glance  of  the  newly  arrived  traveller  was  Just  a 


146  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

trifle  disconcerting,  and  it  must  be  admitted 
that  when  Jane  and  Shirley  gathered  up  their 
gifts  at  the  close  of  the  dinner,  the  little  girl  knew 
better  than  the  older  one  just  what  she  had  received. 

Dinner  over,  a  short  and  not  especially  dra 
matic  little  scene  took  place  behind  closed  library 
doors.  Scenes  which  mean  the  most  are  often 
quietest  of  all. 

"I  just  wanted  to  tell  you,  sir,"  said  Murray 
to  his  father,  "something  I  thought  you  might 
like  to  know  right  away.  I  —  went  West  to 
make  myself  strong  enough  to  —  to  go  into  the 
business,  if  you  care  to  have  me.  I  mean," 
he  went  on  quickly,  as  his  father  looked  at 
him  as  if  he  could  not  quite  believe  the  purport 
of  these  words,  "I  mean  in  whatever  capacity 
you  can  use  me.  Shipping-clerk,  if  you  think 
I  'd  better  begin  at  the  bottom" —  and  his  smile 
was  not  a  smile  which  supplied  "but  of  course 
you  won't." 

Mr.  Townsend  stood  looking  at  Murray,  study 
ing  the  straightforward  gaze  which  met  his;  noting 
the  tints  of  health,  the  signs  of  vigour  in  the 
fine  face.  "  Murray,  do  you  mean  it  ?"  he  asked. 

"I  do,  sir." 

"And  yet  you  don't  like  the  prospect  of  a  busi 
ness  life  any  more  than  you  ever  did,  do  you  ?** 

'Not  much,  sir." 


IN  GAY  STREET  147 

"You  make  this  offer  knowing  fully  what  it 
entails?  I  have  little  expectation  that  your 
brother  will  ever  agree  to  my  wishes." 

"That's  what  decided  me." 

"You  are  willing  to  give  up  your  books? 
You  could  complete  your  college  course  now, 
with  your  renewed  health." 

If  Murray  winced  at  this  he  did  not  let  it  show. 

"I  think  you  need  me  now,  sir.  And  as  for 
the  college  course  —  and  the  books  —  I  shall 
have  my  evenings." 

Mr.  Townsend  studied  his  son's  face  a  full 
minute  in  silence.  Then  he  held  out  his  hand. 
Murray  seized  it  with  a  grasp  which  banished  the 
elder  man's  doubts  and  showed  him  that  his 
boy's  heart  was  in  this  offer  of  himself.  The 
two  shook  hands  without  speaking.  There  seemed 
no  need  of  further  words  just  then. 

It  being  Shirley's  birthday,  that  young  per 
son's  wishes  ruled  the  hour.  Prompted  by 
Rufus,  who  thirsted  for  something  lively,  she 
decreed  a  game  of  hide-and-seek  over  the  whole 
house,  and  succeeded  in  enticing  the  elder  people 
into  the  frolic.  Mr.  Townsend  and  Murray, 
coming  from  the  library,  found  things  in  full 
swing. 

Mr.  Bell  was  just  emerging  from  a  small 
closet  under  the  staircase,  his  hair  much  rum- 


148  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

pled.  Mrs.  Bell,  laughing  blithely,  had  run 
round  a  corner  of  the  reception-room  and  touched 
"goal"  before  her  son  Rufus  could  swing  himself 
down  the  stairs  and  get  in  ahead  of  her.  Mrs. 
Townsend  —  and  her  husband  could  not  quite 
credit  his  eyes  as  he  saw  her  —  was,  with  trailing 
skirts  held  close,  squeezing  out  of  a  very  small 
corner  behind  the  grand  piano  in  the  drawing 
room. 

"Well,  well!'*  cried  the  newcomers,  enthusi 
astically.  "Let  us  into  the  game." 

"Come  on!"  shouted  Rufus.  "Father  's  *itM. 
Let's  play  it  in  another  way,  and  hide  for  keeps. 
Everybody  stay  hid  till  found,  and  each  man 
found  join  the  hunt.  Makes  it  nice  and  excit 
ing  for  the  last  fellow." 

"You  '11  have  to  tell  us  our  bounds  pretty 
carefully,"  said  Mr.  Bell,  smiling  at  his  hostess. 
"In  our  excitement  we  may  open  the  wrong 
doors." 

"Open  any  door,"  responded  Mrs.  Townsend 
promptly,  feeling  more  like  a  girl  again  than  she 
had  felt  in  many  years  of  formal  entertaining, 
and  preparing,  as  she  spoke,  to  hurry  up  the 
staircase  to  a  retreat  that  she  felt  would  be  secure. 

It  proved  great  fun,  and  a  full  half-hour  went 
by  before  the  last  one  was  found.  Murray  had 
been  the  first  to  be  discovered,  his  head  so  full 


IN  GAY  STREET  149 

of  the  late  talk  in  the  library  that  he  had  some* 
what  dazedly  secreted  himself  in  a  position  easily 
come  upon  by  Mr.  Bell.  So  when  the  second 
round  began,  it  was  Murray  who  stood  counting 
the  tale  of  numbers  in  the  hall  below,  while  his 
quarry  scurried  away  over  the  house. 

"He  knows  every  nook  and  corner  of  it,  of 
course,"  whispered  Ross  to  Jane,  as  they  ran 
lightly  up  the  second  flight  of  stairs,  "so  we  'II 
have  to  hide  pretty  close  to  escape  him.  I  'm 
for  a  closet  I  know  of  where  there's  a  pile  of 
blankets  as  big  as  a  barn.  Will  you  come  ?" 

"No  —  I  know  a  better  place,"  and  Jane 
slipped  away  by  herself.  She  meant  to  be  the 
last  found,  and  to  elude  Murray  as  long  as  she 
could,  a  very  girlish  feeling  having  taken  posses 
sion  of  her  that  the  time  to  run  away  is  the  time 
when  you  see  somebody  looking  uncommonly 
as  if  he  would  like  to  be  with  you.  Although 
she  longed  to  hear  the  outcome  of  the  conference 
in  the  library,  she  was  somehow  just  a  little 
afraid  of  the  new  Murray,  and  it  was  with  a 
delightful  sense  of  exhilaration  that  she  made 
her  quick  and  quiet  way  up  a  third  flight  of  stairs 
to  one  of  Shirley's  haunts  in  an  unused  portion 
of  the  regions  under  the  eaves. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  she  heard  the  sounds 
of  the  hunt,  in  which  at  last  the  whole  party 


250  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

had  come  to  join,  approaching  her  hiding  place. 
But  suddenly  a  lower  door  was  thrown  open, 
and  Murray's  voice  sounded  far  down  in  a 
determined  challenge: 

"We  '11  have  you  now,  Jane  —  it 's  no  use. 
Shirley  's  kept  us  away  so  far  —  the  rascal  — • 
but  your  time  's  up!" 

She  could  not  be  caught!  There  was  a  tiny 
door  low  down  in  the  side  of  the  closet  where 
she  was  hiding,  and  dark  though  she  knew  it 
must  be  in  the  unknown  region  beyond  this 
door,  she  opened  it,  slipped  through,  closed  it, 
and  crept  along  the  bare  beams  beyond. 

Murray  was  carrying  a  little  electric  searchlight, 
which  he  was  flashing  into  every  nook  and  crevice. 
Its  sharp  beam  had  penetrated  the  hole  in  the 
blankets  Ross  had  kept  for  a  breathing  space. 
It  had  likewise  sought  out  the  hems  of  skirts, 
the  soles  of  shoes,  fingers  clutching  concealing 
draperies,  and  elbows  sticking  unwarily  out  from 
sly  nooks.  Jane  saw  its  rays  outline  the  edges 
of  the  small  door  beyond  which  she  crouched; 
then  she  heard  Murray's  triumphant  cry,  "O-ho, 
she's  dropped  her  handkerchief!  Now  we  're 
hot  on  the  trail.  She's  gone  through  this  door, 
the  crafty  lady!" 

There  was  a  shout  of  mingled  laughter  and 
expostulation.  *'  She  would  n't  go  through  that 


IN  GAY  STREET  151 

rat-hole !  It 's  too  dark  in  there  for  a  girl.  There  's 
no  floor,  either." 

But  Murray  was  attempting  to  open  the  door. 
It  was  a  sliding  door,  not  a  hinged  one,  and  for 
a  moment  it  delayed  him,  for  he  was  not  familiar 
with  these  regions,  so  dear  to  Shirley. 

During  that  moment,  Jane,  with  the  breathless 
unreadiness  to  be  discovered  which  takes  hold 
of  the  hiding  one,  even  in  a  game,  had  desperately 
retreated  over  the  rafters,  in  the  hope  of  coming 
upon  some  sheltering  corner.  The  next  instant, 
with  a  smothered  cry,  she  had  fallen  over  the 
edge  of  something,  splash  into  three  feet  of  water! 

Nobody  had  heard  her,  and  somehow,  in  the 
intensity  of  the  game,  Jane's  second  emotion, 
after  the  startling  sensation  of  her  sudden  immer 
sion,  was  one  of  absurd  relief  at  finding  herself, 
after  all,  safe  from  discovery.  For,  as  the  little 
door  at  last  flew  open,  and  Murray's  brilliant 
light  leaped  into  the  space  under  the  eaves,  it 
disclosed  to  Jane  that  she  had  dropped  into  a 
cistern,  the  top  of  which  lay  level  with  the  floor 
beams,  and  at  the  bottom  thereof,  where,  having 
scrambled  to  her  feet,  she  stood  stooping,  was 
out  of  sight  of  the  faces  peering  in  at  the  small 
door. 

"Not  here,"  was  Murray's  disappointed  obser 
vation,  after  one  wave  of  his  light  round  the 


i52  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

small  space,  "unless  she's  in  mother's  special 
rain-water  tank,  white  frock  and  all.  Come 
on.  I  thought  we  had  her  then,  sure.  Where 
can  she  be  ?  She's  been  here  —  witness  that 
handkerchief.  And  if  there's  a  cranny  we  have  n't 
explored,  I  '11 

The  little  door  closed  with  a  slam;  the  light 
faded  away  from  its  edges.  The  voices  of  the 
party  were  heard  retreating  down  the  stairs, 
and  Jane  was  left  alone  to  realise  the  humour 
of  the  situation. 

It  was  undoubtedly  humorous.  It  could  hardly 
be  dangerous,  for  October  had  been  a  mild 
month,  and  Jane  was  well  used  to  cold  plunges. 
The  wetting  of  the  pretty  frock  was  of  no  conse 
quence,  for  it  was  quite  washable.  It  was  fairly 
easy  to  scramble  back  to  the  rafters -- Jane 
had  done  that  the  moment  the  searching  party 
was  out  of  hearing,  and  was  carefully  wringing 
out  her  drenched  skirts.  Her  impromptu  bath 
had  wet  her  to  the  shoulders,  besides  bruis 
ing  her  arm  rather  badly.  But  the  trying  thing 
was  to  get  downstairs  and  away  without  being 
discovered  —  and  the  whole  company  in  full 
cry  over  the  house! 

Jane  laughed  rather  hysterically,  shivering  a 
little,  more  rrom  excitement  and  chagrin  than 
from  chill.  She  crept  carefully  to  the  small 


IN  GAY  STREET  153 

door,  meaning  to  push  it  open  and  listen,  when 
suddenly  it  began  to  slide  quietly  aside  of  itself. 
The  next  instant  she  saw  a  sunburned  hand  upon 
its  fastening,  and  heard  a  cool  voice,  close  by, 
say  quietly: 

"It's  all  right.  Nobody  knows  but  me. 
They  've  given  it  up,  and  sat  down  to  await  your 
own  sweet  will  in  showing  up.  Here  's  a  big 
steamer  rug.  Will  you  have  it  to  wrap  up  in  ? 
I  '11  get  you  home  without  a  soul  knowing,  and 
We  '11  play  it  off  as  a  joke,  somehow." 

"Thank  you,"  answered  Jane,  in  a  very  meek 
voice,  which  shook  with  mingled  irritation  and 
merriment,  as  the  rug  came  through  the  opening. 
"  Perhaps  I  could  put  it  on  better  if  I  were  not 
balancing  myself  on  these  rafters." 

"I  beg  your  pardon.  I  '11  get  out  of  this 
closet,  and  you  can  get  in.  I  just  thought  you 
would  n't  leave  so  —  so  damp  a  trail  behind  you 
if  you  were  wrapped  up  in  something.  Here 
are  a  —  er  —  a  pair  of  Olive's  rubbers  for  your 
feet,  so  you  won't  show  any  tracks." 

Murray's  voice  was  shaking  also,  and  in  a 
minute  more  the  two  were  laughing  together, 
lane,  shrouded  in  her  rug,  emerged  from  the 
closet  into  the  attic,  and  Murray  regarded  her 
by  the  light  of  his  electric  searcher. 

"You  don't  look  much  the  worse  for  haviog 


154  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

taken  such  desperate  measures  to  escape  me," 
he  remarked,  noting  with  keen  enjoyment  the 
rich  colour  on  the  cheek  near  which  he  was  rather 
mercilessly  holding  his  torch.  "Rather  meet 
a  cold  ducking  than  a  warm  friend  any  time, 
wouldn't  you  ?" 

"Not  at  all.  I — you  know  how  one  hates 
to  be  caught." 

"Does  one?  Now  I  can't  conceive  jumping 
into  a  tank  of  water  to  escape  you,  if  you  had 
been  after  me!" 

"Please  stop  laughing  at  me  and  help  me  to 
get  home." 

"  I  'm  not  laughing  at  you.  I  'm  —  I  may 
pretend  to  be  laughing,  but  inside,  I  assure  you, 
I  'm  tremendously  worried  lest  this  running 
away  indicates  a  state  of  mind  — " 

"Please  take  me  home!" 

"Come,  then."  He  led  the  way,  by  back 
staircases,  to  a  quiet  side  entrance,  and  so  quickly 
across  the  street,  and  into  her  own  house.  Then 
he  went  back  to  the  others,  to  evade  their  question 
ing  so  cleverly  that  nobody  but  Jane's  mother 
suspected  that  anything  out  of  the  ordinary  had 
happened.  In  a  very  short  time  indeed  Jane 
drifted  inconspicuously  in  upon  the  company 
again,  and  when  inquiries  from  the  younger 
members  of  the  party  as  to  the  change  in  her 


IN  GAY  STREET  155 

costume  fell  thick  and  fast  upon  her,  Murray 
protected  her  with  the  nonchalant  explanation: 

"Don't  bother  her.  She's  very  kindly  trying 
to  shield  me  for  being  the  cause  of  a  little  accident 
that  happened  to  the  other  dress.  It  was  con 
foundedly  awkward  of  me,  but  she  cheers  me  by 
declaring  that  she  can  easily  repair  damages!'* 

It  was  Murray  who  took  Jane  home  again 
by  and  by,  and  who  lingered  on  the  porch,  after 
the  others  had  gone  in,  to  tell  her  how  his  father 
had  received  the  good  news. 

"I'm  so  glad!"  Jane's  hands  were  clasped 
tight  together.  "I  knew  it  would  be  just  as 
you  tell  me.  Are  n't  you  wonderfully  happy  ?" 

"Wonderfully.  Happier  than  ever  in  my  life 
—  except  for  just  one  thing." 

"Nothing  serious  ?" 

"  Well  —  I  certainly  hope  not.  What  bothers 
me  is  that  —  you  seem,  somehow  —  not  exactly 
afraid  of  me,  but  —  different.  I  don't  know 
how  to  express  it  —  but  1—  He  stopped, 

his  tone  growing  anxious.  "You  know,  I  could  n't 
bear  that,"  he  added.  "Unless  I  thought  it 
meant  -  See  here,  Jane  —  are  we  just  as 

good  friends  as  ever  ?" 

"Why,  of  course  we  are!"  She  said  it  shyly. 
She  was  very  glad  it  was  so  dark  on  the  little  porch. 

"  Friends  for  always  ?" 


156  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"I  don't  change,  I  think,"  sr»e  answered, 
with  a  proud  little  lift  of  the  head. 

"Don't  you?  Well,  as  I  don't  either,  that 
ought  to  satisfy  me.  Yet  it  does  n't  quite,  after 
all.  It's  odd,  but  I  believe  just  being  good 
friends  who  don't  change  is  n't  enough.  Oh, 
don't  go!  You're  not  angry?  Yes,  I  know 
it 's  late,  but  I  've  hardly  seen  you  yet.  You 
will  go  ?-  -  But  you  '11  let  me  come  over  early 
to-morro-v  —  after  more  than  a  year  away  ? 
Well,  then,  to-morrow  I  '11  have  to  teach  you 
not  to  b*i  afraid  of  me.  On  my  honour  I  'm  not 
carrying  a  'gun!'  Wait  a  minute— just  a  minute t 
,  .  .  How  did  I  ever  stay  away  from  you  so 
long?  .  .  .  — Good  night,  little  Jane  — 
good  night!*' 


CHAPTER  XI 

IN  THE   GARDEN 

WINTER  —  long  and  cold;  spring  —  late 
and  slow;  then,  all  at  once,  in  June, 
radiant  summer  and  the  little  garden  round  the 
corner  in  Gay  Street  was  a  place  of  richly  bursting 
Moom  —  a  riot  of  colours  against  the  leafy  green 
background  of  its  vine-hung  walls. 

Toward  the  end  of  June  a  week  of  almost 
tropical  heat  had  made  the  evenings  outdoors, 
on  the  little  porch,  and  in  the  garden  itself,  events 
to  be  looked  forward  to  throughout  the  day. 
Joseph  Bell,  Peter,  Ross,  and  Rufus, 
thought  of  them  many  times  during  the  hottest 
day  of  all  —  midsummer,  the  twenty-first  of  the 
month  —  and  came  home  at  night  to  find  the 
table  laid  for  a  cool-looking  supper  out  under 
the  shadow  of  the  maple,  and  Mrs.  Bell,  Jane, 
and  Nancy,  in  thin  summer  frocks,  putting  the 
finishing  touches  to  the  attractive  meal  about 
to  be  served  there. 

Up  in  a  window  of  the  house  next  door, 
behind  closed  blinds,  an  elderly  neighbour  had 


158  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

watched  Jane  wreathing  a  big  glass  bowl  full 
of  strawberries  with  a  crisp  little  green  vine  spray. 

"The  Bells  certainly  are  the  queerest  people 
anybody  ever  lived  neighbour  to,"  she  said  over 
her  shoulder  to  her  sister,  a  withered  little  spinster, 
who,  in  this  hot,  small  upstairs  room,  was  sewing 
at  another  window,  which  did  not  look  out  upon 
the  garden,  and  therefore  could  have  its  blinds 
open.  "Anybody  'd  think  life  was  just  one 
picnic  to  them.  Think  of  lugging  all  those  dishes 
outdoors  this  hot  night,  and  then  lugging  fem 
all  in  again  —  and  they  all  dressed  out  in  flowered 
muslins!" 

The  sister  came  to  the  window  and  peered 
somewhat  wistfully  out  through  the  closed  blinds. 
f<It  does  look  sort  of  pleasant  out  there,"  she 
said.  "And  we  certainly  can't  say  they  're 
not  good  neighbours.  Mrs.  Bell  sent  over  a 
whole  tin  of  those  light  rolls  of  hers  this  morning. 
They  '11  come  in  handy  for  supper." 

"There  come  the  men."  Mrs.  Hunter  brought 
her  gaze  to  bear  upon  the  four  who  had  stolen 
up  to  the  gate,  and  who,  as  she  spoke,  burst 
out  suddenly  with  a  crisp  clapping  of  hands 
which  brought  the  three  in  the  "  flowered-muslins" 
to  the  right-about.  If  Mrs.  Hunter  and  Miss 
Maria,  watching  those  four  advance,  could  have 
heard  what  they  were  saying  as  they  caught 


IN  GAY  STREET  159 

sight  of  the  flower-decked  table,  they  might  have 
had  a  new  light  shed  upon  the  question  whether 
the  trouble  of  bringing  forth  all  those  dishes 
from  the  house  had  been  worth  while 

The  neighbours  saw  the  merry  little  meal  eaten, 
and  saw  all  hands  clear  it  away  at  the  end,  making 
short  work  of  the  many  dishes.  But  afterward 
twilight  fell,  and  little  could  be  discerned  except 
the  gleam  of  the  light  dresses  and  the  presence 
near  of  dark  forms  lying  on  the  grass. 

It  was  after  the  midsummer  moon  was  light 
ing  the  garden  into  a  small  fairy-land  that  Peter, 
springing  up,  exclaimed,  "There's  Olive  and 
Murray!"  and  ran  to  greet  them. 

There  was  a  third  person  with  them,  and  a 
moment  later  the  others  heard  Peter  exclaim,  in 
a  tone  of  surprise: 

"Well,  well,  well!  You  don't  mean  to  say 
this  is  -  -  Why,  how  are  you  ?  How  are  you  ? 
I  'm  tremendously  glad  to  see  you!" 

"Thank  you!  I  'm  a  good  deal  gladder  to  be 
home  than  anybody  possibly  can  be  to  have 
me."  And  Jane,  recognising  first  the  peculiar 
quality  of  the  voice,  cried  out: 

"Why,  it's  Forrest!"  and  led  the  others,  as  a 
general  uprising  took  place. 

"Yes,  it's  Forrest,"  said  the  voice,  and  in 
the  bright  moonlight  Jane  looked  up  into  the 


i6o  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

face  whose  outlines  in  these  two  years  of  absence 
had  grown  dim  in  her  memory.  It  was  the  same 
face,  but  she  thought  it  looked  older  and  thinner, 
and  she  realised  then  and  there  that  Forrest 
was  not  the  same  careless  boy  who  had  gone  so 
lightly  away  to  lead  a  soldier's  life. 

When  the  greetings  were  over  and  the  company 
had  settled  down  again  on  the  turf  under  the 
maple,  Jane  found  Forrest  next  to  herself,  and 
had  her  first  little  insight  into  his  thoughts. 

"I  feel  like  a  stranger  from  a  foreign  country, 
I  assure  you,"  he  was  saying  to  her,  presently, 
as  the  talk  and  laughter  of  the  others  made  a 
bit  of  confidence  possible.  "And  the  strangest 
thing  of  all  to  me  is  the  sight  of  my  brother 
grinding  away  down  there  in  the  office,  looking 
like  the  healthiest  fellow  in  town.  I  can't  under 
stand  it;  it  took  me  off  my  feet!" 

"We  have  grown  so  used  to  the  change,"  said 
Jane,  smiling  to  herself,  in  the  dim  light,  "that 
we  don't  think  about  it  any  more." 

"You  see,"  Forrest  pursued,  "I  came  home 
on  the  quiet  —  just  wanting  to  see,  you  know, 
how  they  would  take  it.  I  thought  if  they  really 
still  cared,  I  should  know  it  by  the  look  on  theii 
faces  - 

"Oh,  how  could  you  think-  — "  Jane  began, 
eagerly. 


IN  GAY  STREET  161 

But  he  interrupted.  "A  fellow  thinks  a  good 
many  things  when  he  's  on  the  other  side  of  the 
world,  and  I  —  well,  I  got  to  wanting  to  know 
some  things  so  badly,  I  was  n't  sorry  when  I 
had  my  fever.  Yes  — you  did  n't  know  that,  did 
you?  Oh,  I  had  it  all  right!  And  I  wasn't 
sorry  when  they  sent  me  home  with  a  lot  of  othei 
convalescents.  So  I  made  for  the  office  the 
minute  I  had  seen  my  mother  and  the  girls,  for 
they  told  me  that  Murray  was  down  there  for 
good  —  a  thing  I  had  n't  known.  Maybe  they 
thought  I  'd  be  jealous  —  and  maybe  I  was  — • 
in  a  way,  though  I  don't  want  the  job  any  more 
than  I  ever  did. 

"  Father  gave  me  a  good  warm  greeting  —  I  '11 
say  that.  And  Murray  —  well,  when  he  got  up 
and  came  toward  me  with  his  hand  out,  looking 
like  the  strongest  kind  of  a  young  business  man, 
I  felt  as  if  —  But  I  can't  tell  you  about  that  now." 

There  was  a  general  movement  of  the  younger 
people  of  the  party,  in  response  to  a  request 
from  Ross,  who  was  entertaining  them  with 
some  new  tricks,  at  which  he  was  an  adept. 
During  the  confusion  Murray  came  and  flung 
himself  upon  the  grass  beside  Jane. 

"Take  me  into  the  conference,  will  you?"  he 
said.  "I  'm  envious  of  anybody  my  brother 
talks  to,  I  'm  so  glad  to  get  him  back." 


162  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

Under  cover  of  the  subdued  light,  Jane  found 
her  hand,  which  had  been  resting  on  the  cool 
grass  where  she  sat,  taken  into  a  warm,  significant 
grasp,  as  familiar  now  as  it  was  dear.  She 
gave  back  a  little  answering  pressure,  without 
turning  her  head  toward  Murray,  at  whose  close 
presence  she  had  grown  instantly  happier. 

"Take  you  in?"  Forrest  answered  slowly. 
"  Well,  if  you  —  and  all  the  others  —  will  only 
take  me  in,  and  never  turn  me  out  —  or  let  me 
turn  myself  out  again  —  I  '11  be  —  satisfied." 

With  one  hand  holding  tight  the  small  one 
buried  in  the  grass,  Murray's  other  hand  went 
out  toward  the  fist  clenched  on  Forrest's 
knee.  "Old  fellow,"  he  said,  warmly,  "if  you  '11 
just  stay  where  you  can  get  over  often  into  this 
garden  in  Gay  Street,  you  '11  find  it  will  do  as 
much  toward  making  life  worth  living  as  it  has 
done  for  every  other  one  of  the  Townsend  family." 

"I  believe  you,"  answered  Forrest,  and  gave 
the  brotherly  hand  an  answering  grip. 


BOOK  II 
WORTHINGTON  SQUARE 


CHAPTER  I 

JANE   WEARS   PEARLS 

A  TAP  upon  her  door  sent  Mrs.  Murray 
Townsend  flying  across  the  room  to  am 
swer  it.  She  expected  to  find  her  husband  there, 
awaiting  her  permission  to  come  in  and  see  her 
in  the  cloud-like  white  gown  which  she  had  worn 
but  once  before  —  two  months  ago.  He  had 
vowed  since  that  he  had  never  seen  that  wedding- 
gown,  being  occupied  wholly  upon  the  occasion 
on  which  it  was  worn  in  keeping  his  head,  in 
order  to  play  his  own  part  with  dignity  and  self- 
command. 

But  to  Jane's  disappointment,  she  opened  the 
door  only  to  a  maid  with  a  florist's  box.  The 
box,  upon  being  examined,  yielded  up  among 
a  mass  of  roses  Murray's  card,  which  bore  this 
message: 

Sorry  to  be  delayed,  dear,  but  father  wanted  to  go  over 
everything  that  has  happened  at  the  office  during  my  absence. 
Will  be  up  in  time  for  the  pow-wow.  Wear  one  of  these  for 

MURRAY. 

Jane  smiled  regretfully.     It  had  seemed  a  long 
'65 


166  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

day.  Only  that  morning  she  and  Murray  had 
returned,  belated,  from  their  wedding  journey 
across  the  continent,  to  find  cards  out  for  a  recep 
tion  in  their  honour  to  take  place  that  very  evening. 

"You  knew  the  date,"  Mrs.  Harrison  Town- 
send  had  said  to  her  elder  son,  when,  upon  being 
told  that  his  delay  had  caused  much  anxiety 
to  the  givers  of  the  affair,  he  turned  to  hk  bride 
with  a  soft  whistle  of  recollection  and  chagrin. 

"I  certainly  did,"  he  had  owned.  "I  forgot, 
I  'm  afraid,  that  there  were  such  things  as  after- 
wedding  festivities  due  to  society,  and  that  this 
was  the  date  for  the  first  of  the  series.  I  don't 
think  Jane  even  knew." 

"I  didn't,"  said  Jane,  looking  regretfully  at  her 
mother-in-law's  handsome  face,  which  betrayed 
a  slight  annoyance.  It  certainly  had  been 
trying  to  receive  daily  telegrams  from  the  travel 
lers  throughout  the  past  week,  announcing  delays 
at  this  place  and  that  on  the  homeward  way. 

"Of  course  it 's  of  no  consequence  now  that  you 
are  safely  here.  I  *m  only  sorry  Jane  will  have 
no  chance  to  rest  and  visit.  The  florist's  men 
will  arrive  within  an  hour,  and  the  house  will 
be  generally  upset." 

"I  '11  run  away  over  to  Gay  Street,  then," 
said  Jane.  "  Murray  's  going  down  to  the  office, 
and  mother  and  Nan  will  be  looking  far  me." 


IN  GAY  STREET  167 

"My   dear,   I  'm   sorry,   but  Olive   has   asked 
a    few   friends    informally  for  luncheon,    people 
from  out  of  town  who  are  coming  for  to-night. 
It  would  hardly  do  for  you  not  to  meet  them  - 
since  two  are  cousins." 

So  Jane  had  had  to  be  content  with  one  brief 
hour  in  the  little  home  round  the  corner  in  Gay 
Street,  and  then  she  had  come  back  to  the  big 
house  in  Worthington  Square,  there  to  begin  to 
act  the  part  expected  of  her.  Murray  had  been 
more  than  sorry  to  leave  her  on  this  first  day, 
but  his  father's  affairs  were  pressing,  the  office 
work  had  suffered  in  his  absence,  and  he  felt  it 
a  necessity  to  get  back  into  the  harness  without 
an  hour's  delay.  He  had  expected  to  be  early 
at  home,  but  his  message  showed  Jane  that  even 
for  her  he  did  not  mean  to  cut  short  the  work  of 
taking  up  again  the  routine  of  business  at  the 
point  where  he  had  left  it  two  months  ago. 

Selecting  half  a  dozen  of  the  finest  of  her  roses, 
Jane,  with  a  long,  light  coat  slipped  on  over 
her  finery,  opened  the  door  and  peeped  cautiously 
out  into  the  large,  square  gallery  of  the  upper 
hall.  Nobody  was  in  sight.  The  doors  of  Mrs. 
Townsend's  and  Olive's  rooms  were  closed, 
the  ladies  dressing  for  the  affair  of  the  evening. 
The  door  of  a  guest-room,  occupied  by  the  two 
cousins  from  out  of  town,  was  slightly  ajar,  and 


1 68  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

a  maid  was  to  be  seen  inside,  offering  a  cup  of 
tea  on  a  tray.  One  of  the  cousins  had  a  headache, 
and  was  fortifying  herself  for  a  fatiguing  evening. 

Jane  slipped  quietly  by  this  door  and  round 
the  gallery  to  the  point  where  a  staircase  led 
to  the  lower  landing,  a  place  just  now  embowered 
in  palms,  which  were  to  serve  as  a  screen  for  the 
string  orchestra.  She  paused  an  instant  on  this 
landing,  to  look  down  upon  the  brilliant  picture  pre 
sented  by  the  entrance-hall  and  its  opening  rooms 
below.  The  look  of  it  reminded  her  of  an  evening 
long  ago,  the  first  upon  which  she  had  set  foot 
as  a  guest  in  the  great  unknown  house  in  Worthing- 
ton  Square,  when  Murray  had  taken  charge  of 
her  and  brought  her  up  here  on  the  landing,  to 
look  down  upon  the  scene  in  which  neither  or' 
them  had  much  cared  to  take  part. 

"Can  this  really  be  my  home  ?"  thought  Jane, 
feeling  as  if  it  could  not  all  be  true,  even  yet. 
She  ran  quickly  on  downstairs  and  round  the 
foot  of  the  staircase  to  a  door  beneath,  which 
furnished  an  inconspicuous  exit  from  the  big 
hall,  and  which  opened  upon  a  short  passage  and 
a  side  entrance  not  much  used  by  the  family. 
This  had  long  been  a  favourite  entrance  for  Murray 
himself,  for  it  shortened  the  way  to  Gay  Street. 

A  very  short  cut  Jane  made  of  it,  for  a  flood 
of  light  from  the  long  row  of  windows  in  the 


IN  GAY  STREET  169 

dining-room  fell  across  the  path,  and  turned  it 
into  one  less  obscure  than  she  wished  it  to  be 
just  now.  Holding  her  delicate  skirts  well  away 
from  the  dust  of  the  road,  she  hurried  across, 
through  the  warm  air  of  the  May  evening. 

There  was  nobody  to  be  seen  downstairs  in 
the  old  house,  although  lamps  were  lighted  and 
the  small  rooms  wore  their  usual  air  of  home- 
likeness  and  order.  Jane  ran  up  the  steep  little 
staircase  which  led  to  the  sleeping-rooms  above. 
She  understood  that,  as  at  the  big  house,  the  family 
were  engaged  in  arraying  themselves  for  the  Town- 
send  reception.  She  paused  at  the  top  of  the  stairs 
to  listen  and  observe,  for  the  various  doors  were 
all  more  or  less  ajar,  and  the  usual  atmosphere 
of  friendly  family  comradeship  gave  her  a  little 
pang  of  homesickness. 

The  first  thing  distinguishable  was  the  fact 
that  Peter  seemed  to  be  having  a  bad  time  with 
his  neck-gear,  and  that  his  cousin,  Ross  McAndrew, 
was  enjoying  his  perturbation  of  mind. 

"Either  my  neck  is  bigger  than  it  was,  or  this 
neckband  has  shrunk."  Peter's  growl  rolled 
out  into  the  tiny  hall,  and  brought  a  dimple  into 
Jane's  cheek  as  she  listened. 

"Probably  both  catastrophes  have  happened." 
This  was  Ross's  voice  in  reply.  "Anybody 
who  has  seen  you  stow  away  buckwheat  cakes 


1 70  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

and  maple-syrup  all  winter  could  n't  be  surprised 
if  your  neck  should  take  a  seventeen  collar  this 
spring." 

"Seventeen  nothing!  Sixteen 's  my  size,  and 

when  I  wear  a  bigger  it  '11  be  because O 

jiminy,  I  've  burst  that  buttonhole!  What  on 
earth  am  I  to  do  now?  I  don't  own  but  one 
dress  shirt  that  '11  fit  the  barn-door  opening  in 
my  white  waistcoat." 

"Your  mother  'II  sew  that  up  on  your  back. 
I  '11  do  it  myself  if  you  won't  howl  at  a  prick 
or  two." 

"Much  obliged,  but  I  know  the  general  style 
of  your  repairs  in  a  case  like  this.  Nan  '11  do 
it,  if  she's  dressed,"  and  Peter's  door  swung  open. 
Intent  on  reaching  his  younger  sister,  whose 
door  was  next  beyond  his  own,  he  did  not  observe 
the  figure  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  in  the  shadow. 
He  proceeded  to  perform  a  double  tattoo  upon 
Nancy's  door. 

"  What 's  the  matter,  Petey  ?"  sounded  an 
amiable  voice  from  within. 

"Neckband  of  my  shirt's  a  wreck.  Want 
you  to  come  and  splice  the  main  brace." 

"All  right  —  if  you  '11  button  me  up  the  back. 
I  can't  reach  below  the  fourth  button,  and  mother 's 
busy  dressing,  too.  It's  so  inconvenient  having 
Janev  married." 


IN  GAY  STREET  171 

"  Give  and  take 's  fair  play,"  agreed  Peter, 
as  a  charming  young  figure  in  pink-flowered 
muslin  backed  out  of  the  door,  both  bare  arms 
strenuously  demonstrating  that  they  could  not 
reach  below  the  fourth  button.  "Stand  still 
now  —  no  fidgeting.  What  on  earth  a  girl 
wants  her  rigging  fastened  behind  for  is  beyond 
me!  If  it  must  be,  why  not  use  buttons  big 
enough  to  get  hold  of?" 

"Look  out,  don't  treat  my  buttonholes  as  you 
did  your  own,  or  I  '11  have  to  be  sewed  up,  too." 

"All  right  —  you're  done.  Turn  round  and 
let's  see  how  you  look  in  front.  Good  work! 
Vou  're  a  stunner,  and  tremendously  grown  up, 
too,  with  your  hair  that  way.  Put  it  up  the  day 
you  were  eighteen,  did  n't  you  ?" 

"Of  course,"  admitted  Nancy,  with  her  comely 
head  held  high.  Then,  as  Jane's  white  skirts  in 
the  shadow  caught  her  eye,  "Why,  there  '5 
Janey!  You  dear!  Oh,  how  good  it  looks  to 
see  you  standing  there!" 

At  the  cry  three  doors  flew  wide  open,  and 
Mr.  Bell,  Ross,  and  Rufus  appeared  simultaneously 
upon  their  respective  thresholds,  while  a  voice 
from  within  called,  "  Is  Jane  there  ?  Come 
here,  dear!" 

"O  mother,  let  me  do  your  hair,  will  you?" 
offered  Jane,  eagerly,  when  she  had  succeeded  >n 


i;2  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

making  her  way  past  the  embraces  of  her  delighted 
family. 

"Not  in  that  dress,  child!  Mercy,  remember 
it 's  your  wedding-gown,  and  don't  whisk  round 
so!  Sit  down  there  and  let  me  look  at  you  while 
I  put  my  hair  up;  it  won't  take  but  a  minute, 
and  then  you  shall  help  me  into  my  dress." 

"  If  you  won't  let  me  do  your  hair,  I  '11  go  sew 
up  Pete's  buttonhole.  I  must  do  something 
for  somebody.  It  seems  so  funny  to  have  got 
dressed  over  in  the  big  house.  I  just  had  to  come 
over  here  and  see  the  rest  of  you  getting  ready 
and  consulting  each  other  on  details  as  usual. 
Where 's  your  work-basket,  mother  dear  ?  Nan,"  — 
running  to  the  door  -  "  don't  you  dare  to  mend 
Peter's  shirt!  I  want  to  do  it  myself." 

"All  right,  Mrs.  Townsend,  nothing  will  suit 
me  better,"  declared  Peter,  with  satisfaction, 
kneeling  in  front  of  his  sister  with  his  back  to 
her,  while  she  sat  on  the  edge  of  his  splint-bottomed 
armchair  and  threaded  her  needle.  "What  doe^ 
Murray  think,  by  the  way,  of  having  his  bride 
rush  over  here  to  assist  her.  family,  and  leave 
him  to  shift  for  himself?  Why  are  n't  you  put 
ting  in  his  studs  and  things,  like  a  dutiful  wife  ?' 

"He  could  n't  get  home  from  the  office  till 
the  last  minute.  Mr. —  Father  Townsend 
wanted  to  consult  him  on  so  much  that 's  happened 


IN  GAY  STREET  173 

while  we  've  been  gone.  Of  course  I  'm  going 
back  before  he  comes,"  responded  Jane.  "Dear 
me  —  wreck  is  certainly  the  word  for  this 
buttonhole.  Did  you  try  to  put  your  thumb 
through  it?" 

"Tried  to  climb  through  it  myself  bodily  at 
the  last.  Anything  better  calculated  to  put  a 
fellow  into  a  lovely  frame  of  mind  for  an  affair 
where's  he's  expected  to  make  himself  agreeable 
I  don't  know.  Wrestling  to  get  an  iron  collar 
on  a  steel  neckband  is  —  well  —  it 's  a  trifle 
upsetting  to  the  nerves.  Be  sure  you  get  that 
buttonhole  the  right  size.  Better  try  the  collar- 
button  in  it  before  you  make  fast." 

"When  you  're  done  with  him  you  can  tie 
my  tie  for  me,  if  you  're  looking  for  work,"  an 
nounced  Rufus,  appearing  in  the  doorway.  "I 
can't  seem  to  get  the  right  curve  on  the  thing." 

"Janey,  would  you  wear  this  bracelet  Shirley 
gave  me  last  Christmas,  or  would  n't  you  ?" 
Nancy  looked  in  over  Rufus's  shoulder.  At 
eighteen  she  was  tall  for  her  years;  at  twenty-one 
Rufus,  although  sturdily  built,  had  no  advantage 
of  her  in  inches.  It  was  Peter,  with  his  six  feet 
of  brawn,  who  was  the  family  pride  in  the  matter 
of  size. 

Jane  snipped  off  her  thread  and  turned  to 
look  at  her  younger  sister.  "  Do  as  you  like,  Nan, 


174  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

of  course,"  said  she,  "  but  —  if  you  want  to  look 
quite  perfect  in  my  eyes  you  '11  leave  it  off." 

"Good  for  you!"  Peter  observed  Nancy's 
simple  frock  and  fair  neck  with  approval.  "Lots 
of  time  for  the  gewgaws  when  they  're  needed 
to  cover  up  the  hollows." 

"Now  I  '11  go  help  mother,"  said  Jane,  having 
adjusted  Rufus's  cravat  to  his  satisfaction, 
mended  a  tiny  rip  in  Ross's  glove,  and  given 
her  father  a  hug,  since  his  dressing  was  com 
pleted,  and  there  seemed  to  be  nothing  else  she 
could  do  for  him.  He  had  held  her  fast,  regard 
less  of  her  bridal  attire,  for  he  had  missed  her 
sorely  during  her  two  months'  absence,  and 
the  thought  that,  however  often  she  might  seek 
it,  his  roof  was  no  longer  hers,  was  one  not  easily 
assimilated. 

"  I  should  really  not  have  felt  properly  dressed," 
averred  Mrs.  Bell,  as  Jane  hovered  about  her, 
performing  all  sorts  of  small  offices,  "if  you  had 
not  been  here  to  assure  me  that  I  was  quite  right 
in  all  points." 

As  Jane  smiled,  first  at  her  mother,  then  at 
her  father,  wondering  how  she  had  ever  been 
able,  even  for  Murray's  sake,  to  leave  two  people 
so  dear,  a  low  call,  apparently  proceeding  from 
downstairs,  reached  her  ear,  and  she  turned 
quickly  to  listen. 


IN  GAY  STREET  175 

"  Jane  ?"  came  the  voice  again,  interrogatively. 
"Gentle  Jane,  you  're  not  lost  to  me  for  good 
and  all  ?" 

Jane  ran  to  the  head  of  the  small  stairway 
and  looked  down.  In  the  light  from  a  bracket 
lamp  at  the  foot,  her  husband's  face  smiled  up 
at  her.  A  bright,  strong  face  it  was,  ruddy  with 
health,  and  alert  with  interest  in  that  which  he 
beheld  at  the  top  of  the  stairs.  Murray  was  in 
evening  dress,  and  as  Jane  observed  the  fact  she 
cried  softly  and  regretfully: 

"Why,  it  must  be  later  than  I  thought!  I 
did  n't  mean  to  be  away  when  you  came  —  I  'm 
so  sorry!  It  doesn't  seem  as  if  I  'd  been  here 
five  minutes." 

"No  excuses  necessary,  dear,"  he  answered. 
*When  I  sent  you  word,  I  did  n't  expect  to  be 
Able  to  get  away  till  the  last  minute,  but  a  telegram 
from  a  man  who  had  an  appointment  with  father 
let  us  out,  and  I  followed  my  message  home.  I 
came  after  you  because  mother  is  getting  a  bit 
uneasy.  She  wants  to  be  sure  the  bride  is  at  her 
elbow,  ready  for  the  fray,  though  not  a  soul  will 
show  up,  of  course,  till  long  after  the  hour  on  the 
cards." 

"  I  '11  come  this  minute,"  and  Jane  caught  up 
her  long  coat,  threw  a  kiss  at  her  family,  and 
hurried  down.  "You  '11  all  come  right  away. 


176  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

Won't  you  ?"  she  called  back,  and  let  Murray 
walk  off  with  her. 

At  the  curb  she  paused.  "I  meant  to  have 
borrowed  Nan's  rubbers,"  she  said,  looking 
down  at  her  white-shod  feet.  "I  forgot  when 
I  came  over." 

"That 's  easy,"  and  Murray  had  her  across 
the  street  before  she  could  protest  that  she  was 
too  heavy  for  him. 

"You  could  n't  have  done  that  when  I  first 
knew  you,  could  you  ?"  laughed  Jane,  with  pride 
in  his  strength  of  arm. 

"Not  much.  What  a  slim  and  sickly  whiffer 
I  was!  I  wonder  you  ever  looked  twice  at  me^ 
with  Pete  at  hand  as  a  contrast." 

"I  liked  muscle,  but  I  like  brains  too,"  ex 
plained  Jane,  as  if  this  were  the  first  time  the 
matter  had  been  made  clear. 

"Thank  you.  I  'm  afraid  I  had  none  too 
many  of  those,  either.  The  house  looks  festive, 
does  n't  it  ?  Have  you  seen  the  dining-room  ? 
Mother  seemed  to  be  particularly  pleased  with  the 
decorations  there." 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  ran  away  in  too  much  of  a  hurry 
to  notice." 

Murray  gave  his  young  wife  an  amused  look  as 
they  stood  together  on  the  steps  of  the  small  side  en 
trance  by  which  Jane  had  come  out  an  hour  before . 


IN  GAY  STREET  177 

"Do  you  know  where  you  are  to  stand  in  the 
receiving  line  ?"  he  inquired. 

Jane  shook  her  head. 

"  Do  you  know  whether  you  are  to  shake  hands 
with  the  guests  or  merely  bow  ?" 

"No.     You  '11  tell  me,  won't  you  ?" 

"Do  you  know  whether  I  'm  to  present  people 
you  don't  know  to  you,  or  whether  you  're  to 
depend  on  mother  for  that  ?" 

"I  suppose  I'll  find  that  out  when  the  time  comes." 

"Do  you  know  whether  you  ought  to  look 
beamingly  happy  or  coolly  composed  ?" 

"Which  do  you  prefer?" 

Murray  laughed.  "A  judicious  mixture  of  both, 
I  should  say.  Well,  my  small  bride,  ignorant  as 
you  profess  to  be  of  your  part,  I  'm  not  worried 
about  you.  Just  the  same,  I  expect  we  'd  better 
hunt  up  mother  and  be  coached  as  to  the  precise 
line  of  conduct  she  expects  of  us.  I  Ve  never 
played  the  leading  man's  part  in  a  bridal  'At 
Home '  myself,  and  mother 's  something  of  a 
stickler  for  doing  things  according  to  the  latest 
revision  of  the  code.  Well,  well,"  he  added  in 
surprise,  glancing  at  his  watch  as  they  entered 
the  hall,  "  it  's  later  than  I  thought.  Do  you 
need  to  go  upstairs  ?" 

"Just  a  minute  —  to  smooth  my  unruly  hair," 
and  Jane  ran  away,  leaving  him  ga/ing  after  her- 


178  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"Murray!"  His  mother  came  toward  him 
from  the  library,  a  striking,  even  imposing,  figure 
in  black  and  white  lace  and  amethysts.  "  Between 
you  and  Jane,  I  was  getting  anxious.  I  have  n't 
seen  the  child  since  I  went  to  her  room,  at  least 
two  hours  ago." 

"She  is  all  ready  —  dressed  early  so  she  might 
run  home,  since  I  sent  her  word  I  should  be  late." 

"  But  where  is  she  now  ?" 

"Ran  upstairs  to  see  if  her  hair  was  right. 
Is  n't  that  the  invariable  custom  at  the  last 
minute  ?" 

"  She  is  wearing  her  wedding-gown,  of  course  ?** 

"She  surely  is." 

"No  ornaments  ?" 

"I  sent  her  some  roses.  She  '11  carry  them,  o/ 
wear  one,  or  something,  I  suppose." 

"  But  no  jewels  ?" 

"I  think  she  's  wearing  the  pearl  pin  I  gave 
her." 

"Murray!  You  are  quite  as  bad  as  Jane! 
To  be  sure,  her  girlish  way  of  dressing  has  been 
very  pretty  and  appropriate  in  view  of  her  father's 
lack  of  means.  But  her  position  now,  as  your 
wife,  is  different.  Olive  insists  that  Jane  does 
not  care  for  ornaments  of  any  sort,  but  I  am  sure 
she  would  not  object,  Murray,  to  wearing  that 
beautiful  pearl  necklace  of  Grandmother  Town- 


IN  GAY  STREET  179 

sencTs  —  if  you  explain  to  her  that  it 's  an  heirloom 
and  that  it  will  give  me  great  pleasure  to  have  her 
wear  it  ?  Pearls  are  not  becoming  to  Olive," 
added  Mrs.  Townsend,  and  her  son  smiled. 

"If  you  want  Jane  to  wear  that,  mother,  you 
will  have  to  ask  her  yourself.  She  's  coming 
now,  I  think.  Yes  "  —as  Jane  looked  over  the 
gallery  rail  and  nodded  down  at  him  — "here  she 
is.  Do  you  really  think  she  needs  'ornaments'? 
They  strike  me  as  superfluous." 

Mother  and  son  were  watching  Jane  as  she 
came  down  the  staircase,  her  white  figure  out 
lined  against  the  dark  green  of  the  palms  and 
foliage.  Her  bronze-tinted  hair  shone  like  a 
crown  under  the  radiance  of  the  lights,  and  her 
softly  blooming  face  made  one  forget  the  sim 
plicity  of  her  attire.  At  least,  it  made  Murray 
forget  it.  But  Mrs.  Harrison  Townsend  saw 
in  the  white  neck  and  arms  a  background  for 
her  pearls.  She  picked  up  a  case  from  the  table 
where  she  had  laid  it. 

"My  dear,"  she  said,  "you  are  very  sweet, 
and  I  shall  be  very  proud  to  present  you  as  my 
daughter.  And  you  won't  mind  wearing,  to 
please  me,  these  pearls  of  Murray's  great-grand 
mother's,  will  you  ?  They  are  just  what  you  need 
to  set  off  your  colouring." 

Jane's  face  grew  warm  as  her  eyes  fell  upon 


i8o  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

the  pearls,  lying  in  a  worn  old  case  lined  with 
faded  green  velvet.  She  looked  from  them  to 
Murray  —  an  appealing  little  glance  and  a  ques 
tioning  one.  He  nodded  ever  so  slightly  in 
return,  smiling  at  her. 

"You  are  very  kind,"  said  Jane,  simply,  to 
her  mother-in-law.  "  I  will  wear  them  —  if  you 
wish." 

She  let  Mrs.  Townsend  clasp  the  necklace, 
received  that  lady's  kiss  and  approving  comment 
on  the  difference  it  made  in  her  appearance,  and 
allowed  herself  to  be  led  to  a  mirror  to  see  the 
effect.  As  she  stood  before  it,  her  lashes  falling 
after  one  glance  of  a  pair  of  unwilling  eyes,  some 
body  called  Murray's  mother  away.  Jane  looked 
at  her  husband  again. 

"Yes,  I  know  you  hate  it,  little  modesty,"  said 
he.  "And  I  own  I  like  to  see  you  without  any 
jewels.  Yet  there  can  be  no  doubt  you  become 
those  pearls.  You  set  them  off,  not  they  you. 
And  seeing  they  're  not  diamonds  — 

Jane's  eyes   flashed.      'Not  even  for  you 

His  eyes  responded  with  an  answering  bril-. 
liance,  as  he  shook  his  head,  laughing.  "Not 
even  for  me!  Are  you  sure?  But  you  need  n't 
fear.  Diamonds,  little  Jane  Townsend,  were 
not  made  for  you.  Let  those  sparkle  who  want 
to.  I  prefer  a  steady  glow!" 


IN  GAY  STREET  181 

An  hour  later  Ross  McAndrew  and  Peter 
Bell,  making  their  entrance  to  the  long  drawing- 
room  together,  and  waiting  their  turn  to  advance 
toward  the  receiving  party,  exchanged  a  series 
of  low-voiced  comments,  under  cover  of  the 
general  hum  of  talk. 

"My  word,  Pete!  Can  that  be  our  small 
girl,  standing  up  there  like  a  young  queen  ? 
Watch  her!  I  say,  watch  her!" 

"I  am  watching  her,"  said  Peter,  with  great 
satisfaction.  "If  you  see  my  eyes  drop  out, 
pick  'em  up,  will  you  ?" 

"Not   that  we   might  n't   have   expected   it  of 
her.     I   knew  well  enough  she  'd   be  sweet  and 
charming  —  but    that    little    gracious  manner  - 
that  self-possession — jolly,  she's  great!" 

"Look  at  Murray!  Is  he  proud  of  her,  or 
is  n't  he  ?" 

"Proud  as  Lucifer.  And  has  a  right  to  be. 
His  mother  looks  pretty  complacent  herself.  And 
Olive  —  she's  stunning,  as  usual.  But  our  Jane  — 

The  time  to  go  forward  had  arrived.  With 
head  up  and  shoulders  squared  Peter  led  the 
way.  As  he  passed  his  host  and  hostess  he  was 
a  model  of  well-trained  propriety,  but  when  he 
reached  Jane  and  Murray  his  formal  manner 
relaxed,  and  ho  grasped  each  hand  with  a 
hearty  grip. 


i8a  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"You  're  a  delightful  pair,"  he  murmured, 
"and  the  sight  of  you  takes  me  off  my  feet." 

"You  look  perfectly  composed,  even  bored/' 
retorted  Murray,  laughing,  glad  to  greet  a  brother 
who  could  be  relied  upon  not  to  say  the  usual 
thing. 

But  Jane  whispered  as  she  smiled  up  at  him, 
"I  'm  dreadfully  frightened,  Petey,  and  I  can't 
do  it  well  at  all." 

"Keep  on  being  frightened,  then,"  advised 
her  brother.  "The  result's  perfectly  satisfactory, 
is  n't  it,  Murray  ?" 

"You're  not  really  frightened?"  whispered 
her  husband,  taking  advantage  of  a  slight  lull 
in  his  duties  to  detain  Peter.  "  She  does  n't 
look  it,  does  she  ?" 

"Not  a  bit." 

"You  've  only  to  look  at  mother,"  was  Murray's 
comforting  assurance,  "to  know  that  she  's  entirely 
satisfied.  If  she  were  not  —  well  —  she  'd  look 
different,  that  's  all!" 


CHAPTER  II 

SHIRLEY  HAS  GROWN  UP 

AS  PETER  BELL  abruptly  rounded  the 
corner  from  Gay  Street  into  Worthington 
Square  he  saw  coming  toward  him  an  attractive 
young  figure  in  a  white  frock.  He  glanced  at 
it  and  away  again;  then  back,  as  he  came  nearer; 
once  more  away;  then  returned  to  look  steadily, 
positive  that  his  second  impression  had  been 
the  right  one,  after  all.  It  must  be  that  he  knew 
this  girl.  If  he  did,  he  must  give  her  a  chance 
to  recognise  him. 

She  not  only  recognised  him,  she  smiled  out 
right,  and  stopping  short  held  out  her  hand. 
The  eyes  which  were  laughing  at  him  were  eyes 
he  had  surely  seen  before. 

Peter's  hat  had  come  off  promptly;  when  she 
stopped,  he  stopped.  When  she  held  out  her 
hand  he  took  it,  and  stood  staring  down  into  the 
merry  eyes  with  puzzled  interest. 

"O  Mr.  Peter  Bell!"  she  jeered  softly.  "To 
be  so  slow  to  recognise  an  old  friend  —  a  con 
nection  of  your  own  family.  Dear,  dear,  you 
183 


184  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

should  go  to  an  oculist!  Has  it  been  coming 
on  long  ?  Can  you  still  distinguish  trees  and 
houses  ?" 

The  voice  told  him  who  its  owner  was,  though 
it  was  a  degree  richer  in  quality  than  when  he 
had  heard  it  last,  two  years  before.  "  Shirley 
Townsend!"  he  cried.  "Miss  Shirley,  I  mean, 

of  course.  Well,  well!  No  wonder  I When 

did  you  come?  And  you've  grown  up!" 

"Of  course  I  have.  Has  n't  Nancy  grown  up  ? 
I  *m  a  year  older  than  she,  too.  And  I  came  last 
night  —  a  whole  month  before  they  expected 
me.  I  was  supposed  to  be  going  to  stop  in  New 
York  with  Aunt  Isabel  for  a  month  —  after 
two  long  years  away  off  in  England  at  school! 
But  Marian  Hille's  mother  met  her  at  the  ship  — 
she 's  the  girl  who  went  with  me,  you  know  — 
and  they  came  right  along  home.  I  could  n't 
stand  it  to  stop  in  New  York,  and  I  came  with 
them.  And  you  don't  mean  'Miss  Shirley'  at  al^ 
of  course  —  with  Jane  married  to  Murray!" 

"Then  you  don't  mean  'Mr.  Peter  Bell.'  " 

"You  look  terribly  elderly  yourself.  But  I 
knew  you!  The  mere  fact  that  you  are  not 
wearing  the  same  clothes  you  were  when  I  went 
away " 

"  It  was  n't  your  clothes  —  except  the  extension 
on  the  length  of  them.  It  was  —  it  was " 


IN  GAY  STREET  185 

"I  understand.  My  hair  is  up.  I  no  longer 
wear  two  big  black  bows  behind  my  ears." 

"Your  cheeks,"  protested  Peter.  "You  —  the 
English  air,  I  suppose  - 

"No,  I  'm  not  a  pale  little,  frail  little  girl  any 
more,  thanks  to  miles  and  miles  of  walking.  You 
don't  look  very  frail,  either.  Are  n't  we  delight 
fully  frank  —  after  staring  each  other  out  of 
countenance  ?  Is  Nancy  at  home,  and  Mrs. 
Bell  ?" 

"They'll  be  delighted  to  see  you." 

"They  '11  know  me,  too,"  laughed  Shirley. 

"She  certainly  has  grown  up,"  thought  Peter, 
when  Shirley  had  walked  away  from  him  toward 
Gay  Street.  He  rather  wished  he  had  not  been 
so  obviously  rushing  away  from  home  when  he 
met  this  new-old  acquaintance.  The  little  Shirley 
had  always  been  a  good  friend  of  his;  the  older 
Shirley  looked  distinctly  better  worth  knowing. 
But  Peter's  days  were  busy  ones;  he  had  few 
moments  for  lingering  by  the  side  of  pretty  girls; 
nor  was  he  wont  to  spend  much  time  lamenting 
his  deprivations. 

Shirley  Townsend's  appearance  at  the  door  of 
the  Bell  house  caused  a  flurry  of  welcoming. 
Nancy,  after  two  minutes  of  shyness  at  the  sight 
of  her  former  chum  looking  so  like  and  so  unlike 
herself,  discovered  that  the  unlikeness  was  going 


i86  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

to  make  no  difference.  It  was  a  great  relief,  for 
somebody  who  had  seen  Marian  Hille  at  the  end 
of  one  year  at  the  English  school  had  declared 
her  grown  insufferably  consequential,  and  had 
prophesied  that  Shirley  Townsend  would  come 
home  "spoiled." 

But  almost  the  first  remark  Shirley  made  was, 
"  Is  n't  Jane  the  dearest  thing  you  ever  saw  ? 
And  are  n't  we  just  the  luckiest  people  to  get  her 
into  the  family  ?"  So  then  Nancy  knew  it  was 
precisely  the  same  Shirley,  and  was  glad. 

"  I  don't  suppose  she  's  really  as  good-looking 
as  Olive,"  commented  Rufus,  when  he,  too,  had 
seen  his  old-time  partner  at  tennis,  and  had  had 
a  game  with  her,  "but  she  's  a  lot  more  alive,  and 
jollier,  ten  times  over.  And  her  playing  form  's 
improved;  she  can  serve  a  ball  that  keeps  you  up 
and  doing  for  fair.  She  knows  cricket  too;  she  's 
going  to  teach  us.  I  'm  glad  she  's  got  home. 
It  '11  be  a  good  deal  pleasanter  for  Jane  over  there. 
Shirley  won't  go  in  for  society,  like  Olive  and  Mrs- 
Harrison." 

Rufus's  prophecy  proved  a  true  one.  Upon 
the  second  day  after  Shirley's  return,  Mrs.  Town' 
send,  Senior,  announced  —  with  some  languor,  as 
if  she  herself  found  summer  affairs  wearisome, 
after  a  winter  which  had  been  unusually  full  — • 
that  a  garden-party  and  musicale  would  that 


IN  GAY  STREET  187 

afternoon  claim  all  four  feminine  members  of  the 
household.  "Our  men  ought  to  go,  too,"  she 
added,  "  but  your  father  simply  will  go  to  nothing 
that  takes  him  away  from  his  business,  and 
Murray  seems  to  be  lapsing  into  the  same 
attitude.  Forrest,  when  he  is  at  home,  is  my  only 
standby,  but  this  freak  of  his  to  spend  his  time 
travelling  makes  him  seldom  to  be  counted  on. 
Shirley,  I  hope  you  have  something  suitable  to 
wear.  It  was  a  strange  idea  for  you  to  come 
home,  after  being  two  years  within  an  hour  of 
London,  with  nothing  but  tennis  suits  and  cricket* 
ing  shoes.  If  you  had  stopped  in  New  York,  as  I 
expected,  your  Aunt  Isabel  would  have  remedied 
all  deficiencies  in  your  wardrobe.  But  as  it  is " 

"As  it  is,  I  've  nothing  suitable,  mother  mine, 
So  you  won't  ask  me  to  go,  will  you  ?" 

"You  must  have  something  that  will  do.  The 
Hildreths  will  expect  you,  now  that  every  onf 
knows  you  are  at  home.  Marian  Hille  will  be 
sure  to  be  there,  and  you  ought  to  be,  quite  as 
much." 

"I  've  had  two  years  of  Marie  Anne  — as  she 
wishes  to  be  called  now.  I  can  do  without  her 
very  comfortably  for  a  day  or  two,"  objected 
Shirley,  smiling  at  Jane. 

Jane  was  indeed  rejoicing  in  her  new  young 
sister's  return.  The  relations  between  herself 


188  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

and  Olive,  although  cordial  and  affectionate,  were 
not  based  on  so  strong  a  congeniality  of  tastes  as 
existed  between  Jane  and  Shirley.  The  girl, 
before  she  went  away,  had  shown  decided 
promise  of  originality  and  force  of  character. 
Looking  at  her  now,  as  she  stood  before  them 
in  short  tennis  dress  and  fly-away  hat,  with 
vivacious,  wide-awake  face  full  of  clear  colour. 
it  needed  small  discernment  to  make  sure  of 
the  fact  that  here  was  a  girl  out  of  the  common, 
and  quite  irresistibly  out  of  the  common,  too. 

"I  don't  like  to  insist,  Shirley,  and  I  would 
not,  if  you  were  showing  the  slightest  fatigue 
after  your  journey.  But  since  all  the  apology  I 
could  make  for  you  would  be  that  you  preferred 
to  play  tennis  in  the  sun  with  Nancy  Bell " 

"  I  see.  It 's  evident  I  must  face  the  music  — 
Miss  Antoinette  Southwode's  searching  soprano, 
and  Mr.  Clifford  Burnham-Brisbane's  wabbly 
tenor  —  and  tea  and  little  cakes.  Since  it 's  my 
duty  I  '11  do  it.  But,  mother  dear,  please  don't 
make  many  engagements  for  me.  Give  it  out 
that  I  'm  eccentric  —  that  Miss  Cockburn  told  me 
positively,  before  I  came  away  from  Helmswood, 
that  after  a  severe  course  of  study  under  her 
unexceptionable  tutelage  I  must  have  absolute 
relaxation.  Say  that  I  have  no  fine  clothes,  no 
floppy  hats  covered  with  roses,  suitable  for  lawn- 


IN  GAY  STREET  189 

parties.  Say  anything,  but  after  to-day  don't 
make  me  go  —  unless  I  most  awfully  want  to. 
Promise  —  please  /" 

Two  firm  tanned  hands  clasped  themselves 
behind  Mrs.  Townsend's  neck,  two  importunate 
black-lashed  blue  eyes  looked  at  her  beseech 
ingly.  The  mother  sighed. 

"Child,  what  shall  I  do,  with  two  of  you? 
Here  is  Jane,  accepting  her  invitations  under 
protest,  and  now  you  are  going  to  be  still  more 
unreasonable." 

"Is  Jane  another?  Then  why  not  just  make 
a  simple  division  of  labour  ?  You  and  Olive  play 
the  society  parts,  and  give  Jane  and  me  the 
domestic  ones.*' 

"  My  dear,  nothing  can  be  so  unfortunate  for  a 
girl,  or  for  a  young  married  woman,  as  to  become 
known  as  peculiar.  Of  course  you  are  not  serious 
—  no  girl  of  your  age  is  ever  serious  in  declaring 
that  she  wants  nothing  to  do  with  society  —  but 
it  distresses  me  to  have  you  even  talk  as  you 
are  doing.  Go  and  dress,  and  look  your  best, 
dear,  and  don't  worry  me  with  this  sort  of  thing. 
I  am  quite  worn  out  already.  Doctor  Warrener 
advises  a  course  of  baths  at  a  rest-cure,  and  I 
think  I  shall  have  to  follow  his  advice." 

"  I  Jm  sorry,"  and  Shirley  kissed  her  mother, 
with  a  pat  upon  the  smooth  white  cheek,  where 


ROUND  THE  CORNER 

faint  lines  were  beginning  to  show.  Then  she 
went  away  to  dress,  discarding  the  short  skirt 
and  canvas  shoes  with  a  smothered  breath  of 
regret,  but  appearing,  in  due  course  of  time,  in  a 
costume  eminently  suitable  for  a  garden-party, 
at  least  from  her  own  point  of  view.  Her  mothei 
did  not  see  her  until  the  carriage  was  at  the  door, 
and  then  it  was  too  late  for  her  to  do  more  than 


to  murmur: 

c« 


My  dear,  if  that  is  the  best  you  can  do,  I 
must  take  you  to  a  dressmaker  at  once.  White 
linen  is  well  enough  for  some  occasions,  and  that 

hat Did   you   tell   me   that   Miss   Cockburn 

advised  it,  and  you  got  it  in  Bond  Street  ?  But  the 
effect  is  decidedly  more  girlish  than  is  necessary." 
"  I  should  think  you  would  want  me  as  infantile 
as  possible,  with  Olive  to  do  the  dressy  young 
lady.  You  and  Jane  and  Olive,  with  your 

'  Ribbons  and  laces, 
And  sweet,  pretty  faces,* 

need  a  plain  little  schoolgirl  to  set  you  off.  And 
I  shall  not  be  'out*  until  next  winter.  I  *m  all 
right,  mother  dear.  Miss  Cockburn  was  always 
•delighted  with  white  linen,  and  discouraged 
fussy  frocks.  I  'm  really  beautifully  'English/ 
and  you  should  be  satisfied.  Girls  are  n't  allowed 
to  grow  up  half  so  fast  over  there  as  here,  and  I 
think  it  is  a  sensible  thing," 


IN  GAY  STREET  191 

Mrs.  Townsend  said  no  more  until,  crossing 
the  Hildreth  lawn  an  hour  later,  she  caught 
sight  of  Marian  Hille.  At  the  first  opportunity 
thereafter,  she  said  in  Shirley's  ear,  "Miss  Cock- 
burn  certainly  did  not  advise  Marian  to  cling 
to  the  schoolgirl  style  of  dressing.  If  that  is  not 
a  French  frock  she  is  wearing,  my  eyes  deceive 
me.  She  is  charming  in  it,  too,  and  not  at  all 
overdressed.  That  rose-covered  hat  is  exquisite, 
and  quite  girlish  enough." 

Shirley  smiled,  a  protesting  little  smile,  buf 
she  did  not  argue  the  question  further.  To 
her  mind,  "Marie  Anne"  looked  like  a  Parisian 
'/ashion-plate,  and  her  manner  was  certainly 
that  of  a  young  person  of  considerable  social 
experience.  Shirley  did  not  like  it.  Her  eye 
went  from  Miss  Marian  Hille  to  Mrs.  Murray 
Townsend,  and  rejoiced  at  the  contrast.  The 
two  were  close  together,  taking  their  seats  for  the 
outdoor  musicale,  which  was  about  to  begin, 
No  fault  could  possibly  be  found  with  Jane's 
attire,  but  in  it  she  looked,  beside  Marian,  like  a 
dainty  gray  pigeon  beside  a  golden  pheasant. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  but  may  I  ask  what  you 
are  staring  at  so  intently?"  said  a  voice  beside 
her,  and  Shirley  turned  to  confront  the  interested 
gaze  of  Brant  Hille,  Marian's  elder  brother. 
*'  \  've  been  standing  beside  you  here  all  of  three 


192  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

minutes,  waiting  for  you  to  come  back  to  earth 
and  recognise  me.  Do  you  realise  we  have  n't 
met  since  you  and  Marian  came  back  ?  And 
won't  you  let  me  find  you  a  chair  over  on  the 
edge  of  the  crowd,  where  we  can  talk  ?" 

This  suited  Shirley,  and  she  let  him  establish 
her  in  a  corner  where  a  clump  of  shrubbery 
screened  the  two  from  a  part  of  the  audience. 
Until  the  music  began,  young  Hille  plied  her 
with  questions  about  her  experiences  at  Miss 
Cockburn's  school,  evidently  enjoying  the  fact 
that  her  point  of  view  seemed  decidedly  to  differ 
from  that  of  his  sister. 

"I  should  n't  know  you  had  been  at  the  same 
place,"  was  his  whispered  comment,  as  the  first 
notes  of  the  initial  number  on  the  programme  smote 
the  summer  air  and  caused  a  partial  hush  to  fall 
upon  the  assemblage.  He  had  been  noting, 
with  interest,  the  change  in  her.  He  had  known 
Shirley  since  their  earliest  days,  but  beyond  the 
friendly  liking  she  had  always  inspired  in  him, 
as  in  everybody,  by  her  girlish  good  humour  and 
love  of  sport,  he  had  not  thought  her  especially 
attractive.  Now,  however,  as  Peter  Bell  had 
done,  he  found  himself  discovering  in  her  qualities 
distinctly  noteworthy. 

"So  they  took  you  to  a  lot  of  old  churches  and 
cathedrals,"  he  began  suddenly  to  Shirley,  after 


IN  GAY  STREET  193 

an  interval  during  which  they  had  listened  politely 
to  Miss  Antoinette  Southwode's  truly  "  searching'* 
soprano  and  Mr.  Burnham-Brisbane's  astonish 
ingly  "wabbly"  tenor,  intermingled  in  an  elaborate 
Italian  duet.  "Did  n't  you  find  that  sort  of  thing 
deadly  dull  ?" 

"Not  a  bit,"  denied  Shirley,  promptly.  "It 
was  such  fun  to  hear  the  dear  old  vergers  proudly 
recite  the  histories  of  the  antiquities.  And  the 
antiquities  themselves!  In  one  very,  very  old 
church  there  was  a  tablet  of  a  man  and  his  six 
wives,  all  kneeling  before  a  shrine.  He  knelt 
first  and  they  came  after,  all  in  profile.  The  poor 
dears  were  all  dressed  alike  —  they  must  have 
worn  the  same  dress,  handed  down.  One's 
head  was  gone  —  that  made  her  more  touching 
than  the  others.  You  could  n't  help  feeling  that 
her  husband  had  been  harder  on  her  than  on  the 
rest.  He  looked  that  sort,  you  see." 

"No  doubt  he  was,"  agreed  Hille,  laughing. 
'Did  you  see  anything  else  equal  to  that?" 

"No  end  of  things.  Of  course  there  was  ever 
so  much  that  was  dignified  and  beautiful,  but 
one  could  n't  help  being  glad  to  find  something 
funny  now  and  then.  One  tablet  in  another 
ancient  chapel  showed  three  men,  one  above 
another  on  their  painted  wooden  tombs,  all 
lying  sidewise  and  half  rising  on  their  elbows, 


194  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

and  staring  right  down  at  you  with  their  eyes 
wide  open.  They  had  pink  cheeks  and  black 
hair.  They  were  father,  son,  and  grandson, 
and  the  father  looked  the  youngest.  Their  wives 
were  all  lying  quietly  asleep  at  one  side.  It 
did  n't  seem  fair  for  the  men  to  be  so  wide  awake, 
while  the  poor  wives  had  to  slumber  and  see 
nothing. —  Oh,  there  goes  Mr.  Brisbane  again! 
Why  does  his  voice  shake  so  much  harder  than 
when  I  heard  him  last  ?" 

"He  's  that  much  more  celebrated,"  said  Hille. 
"See  here,  are  n't  you  and  Marian  about  the 
same  age." 

Shirley  shook  her  head.  But  when  the  song 
was  over  he  asked  the  question  again. 

"I  'm  three  months  older,"  admitted  Shirley. 

"  She  looks  three  years  older.     Why  is  it  ?" 

Shirley  shook  her  head  again.  It  was  one 
thing  to  air  her  news  to  her  family,  quite  another 
to  tell  Brant  that  Marian  was  leaping  into  young 
ladyhood  and  its  signs  too  fast.  But  Brant 
studied  his  sister.  Her  blond  head,  the  hair 
elaborately  waved,  could  be  seen  between  the 
heads  and  shoulders  in  front,  the  striking  rose- 
crowned  hat  conspicuous  among  other  elaborate 
hats  of  all  patterns. 

"She  looks  twenty-five,  at  least,"  he  commented, 
disapprovingly.  "She  looks  older  than  your 


IN  GAY  STREET  195 

sister  Olive.  And  she  seems  to  have  that  cad 
Malfbie  glued  to  her  for  the  afternoon.  If  that  *s 
the  best  she  can  do,  she  'd  better  take  me.  But 
she  's  no  use  for  brothers.  Look  here,  when  's 
Forrest  coming  home  ?" 

"I  Ve  no  idea.  He  was  leaving  Ecuador  before 
the  hot  season  began,  and  was  intending  to  stay  at 
Jamaica  as  long  as  it  was  comfortable.  He  wrote 
he  might  be  off  for  the  South  Sea  Islands  soon. 
He  's  had  a  tempting  invitation." 

"  He  's  a  rover.  His  taste  of  army  life  gave  him 
the  fever.  I  wish  he  'd  get  enough  of  it  and  come 
back.  Things  always  'go*  while  Forrest 's  home." 

Altogether,  between  Brant  Hille  and  two  or 
three  other  young  pe  iple,  Shirley  found  the 
garden-party  endurable.  But  its  cakes  and  ices 
spoiled  her  appetite  for  dinner,  and  the  moment 
that  meal  was  over,  she  was  off  to  the  tennis- 
court.  Here  she  and  Rufus  played  several  sets 
in  so  spirited  a  fashion  that  Murray  and  Jane, 
strolling  over  the  lawn  to  watch  them,  were 
moved  to  comment  upon  Shirley's  vigour. 

"  I  *m  just  working  off  the  garden-party," 
declared  the  girl,  when  her  brother  asked  the  cause 
of  so  much  energy  upon  so  warm  an  evening. 

"You  should  have  put  on  your  tennis  skirt, 
dear,"  said  Jane,  as  Shirley  carne  up  to  her, 
racquet  in  hand. 


196  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"So  I  ought,  but  I  was  afraid  mother  would 
be  made  ill  by  the  sight  of  me,  if  I  did,  after 
dinner.  Oh,  how  good  it  is  to  be  at  home!  Let's 
eamp  down  here  on  the  grass  and  send  for  the 
rest  of  the  clan.  Run  over,  Rufie,  will  you,  and 
get  all  the  Bells  that  will  come  ?" 

As  she  spoke,  Shirley  dropped  upon  the  smooth 
turf  close  by  the  big  wicker  chair  that  Murray 
had  just  drawn  up  for  Jane,  on  the  terrace  at 
the  edge  of  the  court.  Her  cheeks  were  flushed 
by  the  lively  exercise  she  had  been  taking,  her 
hair  curled  moistly  about  her  forehead.  Jane 
looked  at  her  with  a  touch  of  envy  in  her 
affectionate  glance.  Being  Mrs.  Murray  Towns- 
end,  she  supposed  it  became  her  to  sit  demurely 
in  a  chair,  instead  of  putting  herself,  as  she  longed 
to  do,  beside  Shirley,  on  the  grass.  But  Murray, 
with  no  such  restraining  thought  in  his  head, 
cast  himself  upon  the  turf  beside  his  sister,  at  his 
wife  *s  feet. 

Presently  Rufus  returned,  bringing  Nancy  and 
Ross  McAndrew.  Olive,  spying  the  group  upon 
the  lawn,  came  trailing  out  in  all  her  pretty  finery 
of  the  afternoon.  Two  or  three  young  neighbours 
appeared.  By  and  by  Peter  Bell,  just  home  from 
the  paper-factory,  looked  across  from  the  Gay 
Street  porch  and  descried  the  distant  group. 
Somebody  had  brought  a  banjo,  and  somebody 


IN  GAY  STREET  197 

else  was  essaying  to  sing  a  boating-song  to  the 
accompaniment. 

"Shall  I  go  over?"  thought  Peter,  when  he 
had  had  his  bath  and  his  supper,  and  had  come 
out  upon  the  porch  again. 

He  was  quite  alone,  for  his  mother,  after  serving 
his  supper,  had  hurried  out  to  see  a  neighbour 
who  had  been  long  ill,  and  who  depended  upon 
Mrs.  Bell  for  her  daily  cheer.  Mr.  Bell  had 
driven  out  to  Grandfather  Bell's  farm.  The 
little  house  seemed  strangely  silent,  and  the 
porch,  in  the  early  summer  twilight,  more  com 
panionable.  A  hammock  swung  behind  the  vines, 
and  after  a  moment's  indecision,  Peter  stretched 
his  long  form  in  it,  clasping  his  hands  under  his 
head.  He  was  unusually  weary,  for  the  day  had 
been  very  hot.  He  lay  quietly  listening  to  the 
distant  "plunkings"  of  the  banjo  and  to  the 
faint  sounds  of  talk  and  laughter  which  floated 
across  the  space  to  him.  So,  after  a  little,  he 
fell  asleep. 

He  was  awakened  by  the  sound  of  voices  on 
the  step.  The  Bell  porch,  unlike  that  of  the 
Towrnsends,  possessed  no  electric  lamps,  and 
the  nearest  illumination  to-night  came  from  an 
arc-light  on  the  corner.  Peter,  in  his  hammock, 
lay  shrouded  wholly  in  darkness.  He  could  see 
a  gleam  of  white  between  the  vines  which  shel- 


198  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

tered  him,  and  the  voices  were  those  of  his  sister 
Nancy  and  Shirley  Townsend. 

"It's  such  a  relief,"  Shirley  was  saying,  "to 
get  away  from  that  banjo.  I  seem  to  have  been 
listening  all  day  to  the  sorts  of  music  I  like  least. 
Rodman  Fielding  and  his  banjo  are  the  last 
straw.  Nan,  what  do  you  suppose  is  the  matter 
with  me  that  I  don't  seem  to  care  for  the  things 
most  girls  do — clothes  and  boys  and — banjos. 
I  detest  banjos!" 

"  What  do  you  care  for  ?"  Nancy  asked.  '  Ten 
nis,  anyhow.  And  you  like  Rufus  and  Ross  and 
Peter,  don't  you  ?  As  for  banjos  —  I  don 't 
think  anybody  thinks  they  're  very  musical. 
They  just  like  the  funny  songs  that  go  with  them." 

"Rufus  is  like  a  brother,  and  Ross  like  an 
uncle  — -  a  young  one.  As  for  Peter  —  I  don't 
seem  to  know  Peter.  He  's  changed.  What 's 
he  been  doing  to  make  him  look  so  old  and 
sober  ?  I  almost  thought  I  saw  a  gray  hair  — 
and  he  's  no  older  than  Murray." 

"  Peter  old  and  sober  ?" — Peter  himself  was 
growing  fairly  awake,  although  not  fully  enough 
roused  to  the  situation  to  realise  that  he  was 
playing  eavesdropper.—  "What  an  idea!  He 
has  n't  changed  a  particle.  Gray  hair!  It 
could  n't  be.  Why,  Peter 's  stronger  than  all 
the  rest  of  us  put  together!" 


IN  GAY  STREET  199 

"  He  's  been  taxing  his  strength,  then.  He 
looks  as  if  he  had  been  carrying  loads  of  responsi 
bility  —  solving  problems  —  worrying  over  som*» 
he  could  n't  solve.  He's  working  too  hard." 

Nancy  laughed  incredulously,  and  said  that 
Peter's  work  was  quite  the  same  as  it  had  been, 
and  that  her  friend's  absence  had  made  her  see 
things  unnaturally.  But  Peter's  eyes,  in  the 
darkness,  opened  wide.  Here  was  extraordinary 
discernment  for  a  nineteen-year-old  girl,  who 
had  met  him  only  once  since  her  return,  casually 
upon  the  street,  during  which  time  she  had  merely 
laughed  at  him  for  not  knowing  her  immediately, 
and  then  had  walked  on.  Was  it  possible  that 
she  had  seen  that  which  he  had  been  carefully 
guarding  from  the  eyes  of  his  family  for  a  long, 
long  time,  and  at  which  even  his  mother  did  not 
guess  ? 

But  here  was  Shirley  again,  speaking  low  and 
thoughtfully:  "I  seem  to  see  everybody,  since 
I  came  home,  as  if  I  had  never  seen  them  before. 
I  see  father  looking  as  if  he  thought  it  did  n*t 
pay  to  have  made  so  much  money,  after  all;  and 
mother  looking  worn-out  playing  the  grand 
lady;  Olive  following  after,  and  not  finding  much 
in  it.  Murray  and  Jane  absorbed  in  each  other, 
but  Jane  wishing  —  no,  I  '11  not  say  what  I  think 
is  wishing.  She  would  n't  admit  it,  I  know. 


200  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

Ross  and  Rufus  and  you,  busy  and  happy.  Your 
father  and  mother  contented  as  ever.  But 
Peter  - 

It  would  not  do.  He  was  fully  awake  now.  If 
she  was  going  on  to  talk  about  him  again  he  must 
let  her  know  he  was  there.  Besides,  if  she  really 
divined  something  of  the  truth,  he  must  not  let 
her  make  Nancy  anxious. 

Shirley  had  paused  with  his  name  upon  her 
lips,  as  if  soberly  thinking.  Peter  sat  up.  But 
at  the  fortunate  instant  a  figure  dashed  across 
Gay  Street. 

"You  runaways !"  Rufus  called,  reproachfully. 
"A  fine  hostess  you  are,  Shirley  Townsend! 
They  're  asking  for  you.  You  '11  have  to  come 
back." 

So  they  went  away  and  Peter  was  left  alone 
upon  the  porch.  There  was  a  queer  feeling 
tugging  at  his  heart.  Nobody  else  had  seen, 
nobody  else  had  even  noticed  the  slightest  change 
in  him.  Of  course  it  was  not  possible  that  Shirley 
could  know  the  least  thing  about  his  situation, 
but  it  was  something  that  she  appreciated  one 
fact  —  that  he  was  working  to  the  limit  of  his 
capacity,  and  that,  although  he  was  not  yet  over 
done,  the  strain  was  beginning  to  tell.  Not  the 
strain  of  work,  but  the  greater  and  more  exhaust 
ing  drain  of  anxiety. 


CHAPTER  III 

LUNCHEON  FOR  TWELVE 

MRS.  MURRAY,  Mrs.  Townsend  would  like 
you  to  come  to  her  room,  if  you  please." 

"Yes,  Sophy,  certainly.  Is  Mrs.  Towns- 
end's  headache  better  this  morning?" 

"  It 's  very  bad,  Mrs.  Murray.  And  she 's 
that  upset  about  the  luncheon  she  's  giving. 
Cook's  taken  sick,  too — the  bad  luck!" 

"Since  breakfast,  Sophy?" 

°Twas  Norah  and  Mary  served  breakfast. 
Cook  but  got  out  of  bed  and  went  back.  Mr. 
Townsend  bade  me  send  for  the  doctor.  He 
says  she  '11  not  leave  her  bed  again  the  day.  And 
Mrs.  Townsend  says  the  luncheon  must  go  on, 
and  not  a  bit  of  outside  help  to  be  had  at  this 
short  notice." 

Jane  hurried  down  the  hall,  Sophy's  laments 
in  her  ears.  She  found  Olive  sitting  on  the  foot 
of  her  mother's  bed  talking  perturbedly  with 
the  elder  woman,  in  the  effort  to  dissuade  her 
from  the  purpose  of  attempting  to  entertain  any 
guests  whatever  in  the  circumstances.  But  it 

901 


202  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

became  evident  to  Jane  at  once  that  Mrs.  Towns- 
end  was  not  to  be  dissuaded. 

"There  must  be  somebody  to  be  had,"  she 
asserted,  as  Jane  drew  up  a  chair,  after  laying  a 
cool  hand  on  the  aching  forehead  and  expressing 
her  sympathy  with  the  headache.  "It  can't  be 
possible  that  Lemare  could  n't  send  me  some 
body  if  he  understood  the  necessity  —  or  Perceval. 
We  don't  need  much  done.  Cook  had  all  the 
preliminary  baking  done  yesterday.  It's  only  to 
get  everything  together." 

"But  that's  the  whole  of  it,  mother,"  Olive 
urged.  "You  may  say  it's  only  a  simple  luncheon, 
but  Norah  and  Mary  are  certainly  not  equal 
to  it.  Is  n't  it  excuse  enough  to  send  those 
women  word  that  you  're  ill  ?  I  '11  telephone  — 
or  write  notes,  if  you  prefer." 

She  rose  as  she  spoke,  but  Mrs.  Townsend 
waved  an  agitated  hand,  and  shook  her  head 
violently.  "You  don't  understand,"  she  moaned, 
pressing  her  hand  to  her  head  and  falling  back 
among  the  pillows.  "There  are  reasons  why  I 
can't  have  this  thing  fail.  Mrs.  Arlo  Stevenson 
is  a  most  difficult  person  to  get  for  any  affair 
whatever  —  and  this  is  particularly  in  her  honour. 
I  could  have  had  a  caterer,  of  course,  but  I  con 
sider  it  not  good  form  to  put  small  entertaining 
into  any  hands  but  one's  cook's.  I  am  indebted 


IN  GAY  STREET  203 

to  Mrs.  Wister  very  deeply,  and  she  is  bringing 
a  guest  whom  she  is  very  anxious  to  have  meet 
Mrs.  Stevenson.  There  are  other  reasons ' 

"But,  mother" — Olive's  tone  was  growing 
impatient— "  what  can't  be,  can't  be.  We  can't 
get  any  one." 

"Perhaps  I  could  do  it,"  Jane  began,  with 
some  hesitation.  "  If  it 's  really  a  simple 
luncheon " 

"It  is!"     Mrs.  Townsend  spoke  with  eagerness. 

"I  might  not  be  able  to  manage  the  mosf 
elaborate  dishes " 

"Cook  can't  be  too  ill  to  tell  you  what  is 
necessary." 

'''•kit,  mother,"  Olive   protested,   "Jane  must 
be  at  the  table.     She  can't  be  in  the  kitchen,  send 
ing  in  courses." 

"That's  of  no  consequence,"  declared  Jane, 
quickly.  "I  don't  mind  missing  the  luncheon 
in  the  least." 

"They  are  all  older  women,"  murmured  Mrs. 
Townsend,  closing  her  eyes  wearily.  When 
Olive  took  things  in  hand,  it  was  always  difficult 
to  oppose  her. 

"Yes,  but  Jane  is  our  bride.  And  you  expect 
me  to  be  there.  If  Jane  stays  in  the  kitchen, 
so  shall  I." 

"I   don't   know   what   to   do,"   and   the   poor 


204  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

lady  on  the  bed,  among  her  pillows,  looked  as 
if  she  were  indeed  suffering. 

There  was  a  minute's  silence.  Then  Jane 
spoke  with  gentle  decision. 

"Olive,  dear,  that  is  very  nice  of  you,  but  I 
truly  don't  mind  in  the  least.  It  is  n't  as  if  you 
had  n't  already  introduced  me  everywhere,  and  I 
had  n't  been  entertained  over  and  over.  If  mother's 
guests  are  older  ladies,  my  absence  surely  won't 
be  noticed.  And  I  'd  love  to  try  what  I  can  do. 
You  know  I  Ve  had  years  of  training  at  cookery, 
and  if  I  can't  manage  all  of  Cook 's  dishes,  perhaps 
I  can  substitute  others  that  are  n't  at  all  common. 
I  can  promise  at  least  that  nothing  will  be  burned." 

"You  are  a  dear  child,"  said  Mrs.  Townsend 
fervently.  She  wiped  away  a  nervous  tear  or  two. 

Olive  followed  Jane  to  her  room  to  watch 
her  new  sister  exchange  her  morning  dress  for 
one  more  suitable  for  the  affairs  she  meant  to 
take  in  hand. 

"This  is  going  to  be  fun,"  said  Jane  gaily. 

"I  don't  see  how  you  can  think  so.  It 's  cer 
tainly  very  foolish  of  mother  to  persist  against 
all  odds.  One  would  think  her  life  depended 
on  that  luncheon." 

"  It  does  —  in  a  way.  Her  poor  nerves  are 
quite  worn  out.  I  *ve  seen  it  for  a  long  time. 
Having  things  go  wrong  just  now  is  the  last  straw." 


IN  GAY  STREET  205 

"Why,  Jane,  what's  going  to  happen?" 
called  Shirley,  five  minutes  later,  encountering 
Jane  on  the  stairs  which  led  to  the  servants' 
rooms  on  the  third  floor.  Shirley  had  been 
up  to  see  Cook,  who  adored  her. 

"Is   Bridget  able  to  see  me?"  asked  Jane. 

"She'll  be  much  flattered.  It's  sciatica,  and 
it  lays  her  low,  but  she  can  converse  with  intelli 
gence,  even  with  brilliancy.  She  's  in  a  terrible 
state  over  not  being  able  to  get  up  that  luncheon." 

"  I  'm  going  to  hold  a  council  of  war  with  her," 
and  Jane  disappeared  into  Cook's  room. 

Half  an  hour  later  she  came  out  again,  her 
eyes  dancing  with  anticipation,  pencil  and  paper 
in  hand.  As  she  ran  downstairs,  Sophy  came 
up  with  a  tray,  and  caught  the  overflow  of  Brid 
get's  emotions. 

"The  cleverness  of  her!"  exclaimed  the  in 
valid.  "To  take  the  menyou  into  her  own 
pretty  hands  and  think  she  can  see  to  it  all! 
She  can,  too,  or  I  'm  deceived.  Consultin'  with 
me  and  gettin*  my  directions,  and  tellin*  me 
where  she  makes  bold  to  follow,  and  where  she  's 
not  quite  sure.  It 's  a  pity  she  's  not  mistress  of 
the  house  in  Mrs.  Townsend's  place  —  and  her  so 
wore  out  she  ought  to  be  at  a  sanitarium  this 
minute.  Look  to  it,  Sophy,  that  Norah  and 
Mary  does  their  duty  by  Mrs.  Murray  this  day. 


2o6  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

If  they  're  inclined  to  be  triflin',  bid  them  come 
up  to  me.  I  '11  soon  put  them  in  mind  of  what 
Mr.  Murray  says  to  me  when  he  brought  home 
his  wife.  *  Whatever  you  do  to  please  her  will 
be  appreciated/  he  says,  'by  me/  And  it's 
nothing  I  would  n't  do  for  Mr.  Murray  and  Miss 
Shirley,  these  seven  years  I  Ve  lived  here.  And 
now  I  'm  feelin'  the  same  way  toward  Mrs. 
Murray." 

Whether  it  was  the  potency  of  the  message 
which  reached  scullery  maid  and  waitress  by 
way  of  Sophy,  or  whether  it  was  Jane's  own 
engaging  manner,  together  with  the  respect  she 
soon  inspired  by  the  assured  and  competent  way 
in  which  she  "took  hold,"  there  could  be  no  ques 
tion  that  by  the  end  of  the  first  hour  not  only 
Norah  and  Mary,  but  also  Ellen,  the  laundressr 
were  flying  about  as  they  had  rarely  done  before, 
even  for  Bridget,  who  certainly  knew  how  to  get 
out  of  them  work  enough  and  to  spare. 

At  a  moment  when  they  chanced  to  be  all 
together,  Jane  had  said  to  them,  as  with  deft 
fingers  she  mixed  a  bowlful  of  ingredients,  that 
if  with  their  help  she  could  only  bring  about  the 
serving  of  a  luncheon  which  the  guests  would 
like  to  eat,  she  should  be  happier  than  over  any 
entertainment  she  herself  had  ever  been  offered. 
And  she  had  been  able  to  tell  from  their  smiling^ 


IN  GAY  STREET  207 

interested  faces  that  she  was  to  have  from  that 
moment  the  best  service  they  could  give  her. 

Shirley,  when  affairs  were  well  under  way, 
had  gone  to  the  telephone  and  called  up  Murray's 
office. 

"I  want  you  to  come  home  for  a  few  minutes 
at  two  o'clock!"  she  said,  imperatively. 

"What  for?  Anything  the  matter?"  asked 
her  brother. 

"Not    a    thing,"    said    Shirley,    reassuringly 
"  But   there's   something   happening   up   here   at 
the  house  that  you  must  see." 

"  I  'm  pretty  busy." 

"You  '11  never  forgive  yourself,  when  you  hear 
about  it,  if  you  don't  see  with  your  own  eyes." 

"Alt  right,  I  '11  try  to  make  it.  Anything  con 
nected  with  Jane?" 

"Of  course.  Do  you  suppose  I  'd  ask  you  if 
it  was  n't  ?" 

"I'll  be  there." 

"I  thought  you  would,"  and  Shirley  laughed 
as  she  hung  up  the  receiver.  No  doubt  Murray 
was  a  happy  man. 

"Do  you  suppose  Jane  is  going  to  be  able  to 
do  it  ?"  queried  Mrs.  Townsend,  dressing  with 
the  help  of  Shirley  and  Sophy.  As  the  hour 
for  the  arrival  of  her  guests  approached,  doubts 
were  beginning  to  assail  her.  Jane  was  no 


208  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

doubt  an  extremely  capable  young  matron,  but 
the  preparing  of  such  a  luncheon  as  Bridget  had 
planned  meant  not  only  accomplished  cookery, 
but  much  skill  and  care  in  the  details  of  serving. 
Had  Jane's  eyes  been  open  during  the  brief 
period  of  her  entertainment  at  various  fine  tables  I 
It  was  too  late  to  do  anything  but  hope  so. 

"Don't  worry,  mother,"  Shirley  had  urged. 
"Jane  's  doing  wonders.  If  she  can  keep  it  up 
she  '11  surprise  you." 

"  I  had  a  bit  sip  of  the  booly-on  just  now  when 
I  was  down  in  the  kitchen,"  offered  Sophy,  "and 
it  was  elegant.  And  you  know  yourself  'm, 
Bridget  says  that's  one  of  the  most  trying  things 
of  all  to  get  tasty." 

Mrs.  Townsend  went  wanly  down  into  her 
rooms,  to  find  flowers  all  about,  distributed  by 
Olive's  skilful  fingers.  She  looked  into  the 
dining-room.  Her  table  was  faultlessly  laid, 
to  the  last  detail,  and  a  charming  arrangement 
of  lilies  was  mirrored  in  the  polished  mahogany. 

"Now  come  and  rest  until  the  last  minute," 
urged  Shirley.  "And  don't  worry.  Mrs.  Arlo 
Stevenson  won't  have  a  thing  to  criticise  — 
except  the  conversation." 

An  hour  afterward,  Murray,  letting  himself  in 
with  his  latch-key,  found  Shirley  awaiting  him 
inside  the  door.  "Don't  say  a  word,"  she  whU 


IN  GAY  STREET  209 

pered.  "Just  walk  straight  past  the  dining-room 
without  looking  in.  Mother  's  entertaining  Mrs. 
Stevenson  at  luncheon,  you  know,  and  it  *s  a  very 
solemn  occasion." 

Wondering,  Murray,  hat  in  hand,  followed  his 
sister  as  she  walked  demurely  by  the  wide  entrance 
to  the  dining-room,  from  within  which  he  could 
hear  a  subdued  murmur  of  voices.  But  once 
past,  she  hurried  him,  by  a  circuitous  route, 
to  a  narrow  hallway  at  the  back  of  the  house, 
which  led  to  the  kitchen.  Here  she  stationed 
him,  and  bade  him  push  the  door  open  a  cautious 
crack  and  peep  within.  He  obeyed  her.  Shirley 
stood  behind  him,  alive  with  anticipation,  while 
she  watched  her  brother's  shoulders. 

Shirley  could  not  see  his  face,  but  she  heard 
his  subdued  exclamation  as  he  gazed  at  the  scene 
within.  She  knew  what  it  was.  The  luncheon 
had  reached  the  salad  course.  Jane  was  arranging 
plates  picturesque  with  an  enticing  combination 
of  ingredients,  parti-coloured,  crisp  and  cool. 
Her  fair  arms  were  bared  to  the  elbow,  her  cheeks 
were  flushed.  At  her  right  hand  Mary  was 
ready  with  assistance,  her  eyes  respectfully  study 
ing  the  arrangement  —  not  of  the  salad,  but  of 
her  young  mistress's  hair,  which  was  certainly 
worth  studying  for  its  effective  simplicity.  The 
maid  could  never  hope  to  match  that  daintiness 


2io  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

of  arrangement  with  her  own  ash-coloured  locks, 
but  she  meant  to  try. 

Murray  turned  about  at  last.  "Well,  by  Jove!" 
he  exploded,  softly.  "How  does  this  come 
about  ?" 

Shirley  noiselessly  closed  the  door  and  ex 
plained  in  a  whisper.  Murray's  eyes  grew  elo 
quent  as  he  listened.  "The  little  trump!"  was 
his  comment.  "I  wish  I  could  stay  till  she's 
finished.  I  suppose  it  would  n't  do  to  call  her  out 
now?" 

"Mercy,  no!  You  might  upset  her.  So  far 
I  don't  think  the  least  thing  has  gone  wrong." 

"What  possessed  mother  to  put  the  thing 
through,  anyhow  ?  Jane  ought  to  be  in  there 
with  the  others." 

"It  was  something  about  entertaining  Mrs. 
Arlo  Stevenson.  Mother  felt  it  must  be  done, 
though  the  heavens  fell.  They  nearly  did  fall, 
till  Jane  came  under  and  held  them  up.  As  for 
Jane's  being  at  the  table  —  she  did  n't  want 
to  be  there.  And  Olive  would  n't  be,  without 
her,  so  there's  nothing  noticeaJble.  They  're  all 
women  of  mother  's  age  —  on  some  special  board 
of  chanties,  or  something  like  that,  that  makes 
UiCm  congenial." 

"  Its  making  them  congenial  does  n't  neces 
sarily  follow,  unfortunately.  So  Olive  stayed 


IN  GAY  STREET  211 

out,  did  she  ?  That's  one  count  for  Olive.  Why 
is  n't  she  helping  Jane,  though  ?" 

"  Jane  would  n't  have  either  of  us  in  the  kitchen. 
Olive  did  the  flowers,  and  Norah  and  I  the  table. 
I  got  in  an  English  fashion  or  two  that  will  either 
drive  mother  to  distraction  or  fill  her  with  pride. 
I  forgot  to  tell  her,"  and  Shirley  began  to  laugh. 
She  led  Murray  away  to  safer  regions,  but  he 
looked  at  his  watch  and  said  he  must  be  off. 

"Wasn't  it  worth  coming  up  for?"  she  de 
manded. 

"  No  question  of  that.  Much  obliged  for  letting 
me  know.  I  '11  settle  with  Jane  later.  Take 
her  out  for  a  drive,  or  something,  to  cool  her  off, 
will  you?  Good  bye!"  And  Murray  vanished, 
smiling  to  himself.  "That  ought  to  make  her 
pretty  solid  with  mother,"  he  reflected,  as  he 
raced  to  his  car. 

But  when  the  last  guest  had  rustled  away, 
Mrs.  Townsend  was  in  no  condition  to  fall  upon 
Jane's  neck  and  overwhelm  her  with  thanks. 
Instead  she  had  to  be  carried  to  her  room  by 
Phelps,  the  coachman  —  summoned  in  haste  from 
the  stable  —  and  put  to  bed  by  her  daughters. 
Her  physician  arrived  in  short  order,  and  his  edict, 
when  he  had  telephoned  for  a  nurse,  was  stern. 

"When  you  society  women  stop  putting  your 
selves  through  a  grind  that  no  strong  man  could 


212  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

stand  up  under,  you  will  get  a  grip  upon  yout' 
nerves,"  said  he.  "Mrs.  Townsend  was  at  the 
end  of  her  forces  two  months  ago,  and  I  told  her 
so.  She  has  simply  been  keeping  up  on  will  - 
with  the  inevitable  result.  The  moment  she  is 
fit  to  travel  she  must  get  off  to  the  quietest  place 
on  my  list — and  stay  there.  Home  would  be  a 
better  place  for  her,  if  she  would  obey  the  rules; 
but  she  won  't,  so  that  settles  it.  And  you,  Miss 
Olive  "  —he  turned  abruptly  to  the  elder  daughter 
of  the  house  — ''would  do  well  to  go  with  her. 
It  's  evident  you  Ve  been  travelling  along  the 
same  road." 

"O  Doctor  Warrener,  how  absurd  you  are! 
I  *m  perfectly  well.  And  I  've  half  a  dozen  invi 
tations  to  lovely  places.  They  '11  do  me  far  more 
good  than  going  to  some  invalid  resort  and  tak' 
ing  baths.'* 

He  shook  his  head.  "You  're  all  alike,"  said 
he.  "I  may  talk  till  I  'm  dumb  — you  '11  pay  the 
price.  And  when  you 've  paid  it, you '11  remember." 

"There  are  two,"  said  Olive,  indicating  Jane 
and  Shirley,  "who  will  never  have  nervous  pros 
tration  on  account  of  overdoing  society." 

Doctor  Warrener  surveyed  them,  and  the 
grimness  of  his  face  relaxed.  "I'll  acquit  them 
on  their  faces,"  said  he.  "Tell  your  husband, 
Mrs.  Murray,  to  shut  you  up  in  a  bandbox  —  or, 


IN  GAY  STREET  213 

better,  take  you  off  West  to  that  place  where 
he  got  back  his  health  —  before  he  lets  you  drift 
into  the  swirl.  As  for  Shirley,"  —he  laid  his 
hand  upon  her  shoulder-  "if  I'm  any  reader 
of  destiny  —  and  I  ought  to  be  —  she  's  going  to 
swing  that  tennis  racquet  for  several  years  yet 
before  she  gives  up  and  settles  down." 

All  this  had  happened  before  Mr.  Townsend 
and  Murray  came  home.  Mrs.  Townsend's 
breakdowns  after  fatigue  in  fulfilling  her  engage 
ments,  and  the  summoning  of  the  doctor,  had 
become  too  frequent  occurrences  to  imply  the 
sending  for  her  husband.  The  orders  away, 
for  rest  and  recuperation,  were  also,  within  the 
last  few  years,  of  semi-annual  recurrence. 

"It  simply  means,"  said  Murray,  pacing  with 
Jane  up  and  down  the  long  flower-bordered  walk 
between  the  house  and  the  tennis-court,  "it 
simply  means  six  weeks  or  two  months  for  you 
to  try  your  hand  at  being  mistress  of  the  estab 
lishment.  And  judging  by  what  I  saw  that  hand 
do  to-day  - 

Jane  looked  quickly  up  at    him. 

"I  should  say  that  it  \vas  competent  to  run 
anything.  That  salad  was  a  —  what  do  women 
say  ?  —  a  symphony  —  a  star.  Not  that  I  care 
much  for  salads  myself,  but  to  see  you  putting 
it  together " 


2i4  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"Murray  —  you  didn  't!" 

"  Did  n't  I  ?  You  had  on  a  pink-and-white 
checked  apron  that  came  up  over  your  shoulders. 
Your  sleeves  were  short,  and  your  hair  curled 
round  your  ears,  the  way  it  does  on  damp  days. 
You " 

"Where  were  you?  How  did  you  know* 
Who " 

"  I  was  on  the  other  side  of  the  door,  which  you 
forgot  to  lock.  Never  in  my  life  was  I  so  bowled 
over  by  the  sight  of  a  girl  in  a  kitchen." 

"If  I  had  known  you  were  looking - 

"  Precisely.  That  was  why  Shirley  would  n't 
let  me  call  you  out.  Of  course  I  should  have 
kissed  you  —  I  never  felt  more  like  it  —  and  that 
might  have  endangered  the  composition  of  the 
salad." 

"I  'm  afraid  it  would,"  laughed  Jane. 
"As  it  was,  I  made  the  one  real  mistake  of  thfe 
luncheon  — •  I  sent  that  salad  in  on  the  game 
plates!  The  girls  were  in  such  a  flurry  they 
did  n't  notice  till  the  plates  began  to  come  out 
again.  I  hope  mother  did  n't  mind  very  much." 

"  I  '11  warrant  nobody  else  did.  Mrs.  Arlo 
Stevenson  is  »s  short-sighted  as  an  owJ  in  the  day* 
time,  and  as  I  understand  it,  Mrs.  Stevenson 
was  the  guesf  who  counted  —  goodness  knows 
why!  I  think  she 's  insufferable.  I  'm  glad 


IN  GAY  STREET  215 

mother  's  got  her  off  her  mind,  for  the  time  being. 
It  will  give  her  a  chance  to  recuperate.  Poor 
mother!  She  misses  a  lot  of  fun,  does  n't  she  ?" 

"She  thinks  it 's  we  who  miss  it." 

"  Perhaps  we  can  show  her  better  some  day  — • 
when  we  've  been  very  good  and  earned  that 
house  by  ourselves.  Hi!  What?"  exclaimed 
Murray.  "How  you  jumped!  Did  you  think 
that  house  by  ourselves  was  n't  really  to  materi 
alise  some  day  ?" 

"I — wasn't  sure."  Jane's  voice  was  low. 
She  did  not  mean  to  show  how  much  she  cared, 
or  how  she  longed  to  believe  definitely  in  a  pros 
pect  which,  as  yet,  had  not  been  in  so  many 
words  held  out  to  her. 

"Why,  it 's  a  certainty!  Have  n't  I  made  that 
clear,  little  girl  ?  You  know,  when  I  told  you 
how  anxious  father  was  to  have  us  live  with 
them,  I  said  it  would  n't  be  for  all  time.  Don'r 
you  remember  that  ?" 

"I  know.     But  I  thought 

"You  thought,  I  see,  it  meant  while  he  needed 
me,  which  would  be  as  long  as  he  lived.  No,  he 
does  n't  insist  on  that.  It  was  to  be  only  while 
he  stayed  an  active  partner  in  the  business.  He 
wanted  me  at  his  elbow,  and  I  did  n't  feel  like 
refusing  him.  He  means  to  retire  within  five 
years  —  or  sooner,  if  his  health  shows  signs  of 


216  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

breaking.  Then  he  understands  that  1  'm  to 
have  a  home  by  myself  —  build  one,  you  know. 
Well,  well,  what  a  squeeze  my  arm  is  getting! 
Are  you  so  glad  ?" 

"I'm  pretty  glad.  It's  not  that  —  that  this 
place  is  n't  pleasant,  and  everybody  more  than 
kind,  but  - 

"  You  need  n't  be  afraid  to  tell  me  —  in  fact, 
you  don't  need  to  tell  me.  You  're  too  much  of  a 
born  Jenny  Wren  not  to  want  to  feather  your  own 
nest.  And  I  want  to  see  you  do  it.  We  '11  begin 
to  look  over  plans.  We  can  talk  about  it 

and  think  about  it " 

"No,  we  can't,  Murray." 

"Why  not?     Isn't  anticipation 

"Yes,   but  it  would   make   it  harder  to  wait 
Now  I  know  it 's  sure,  I  can  - 

"Be  good?"  said  her  husband.  "You  are 
being  good  —  heavenly.  What  you  did  to-day 
—  well,  if  you  could  have  known  what  I  thought 
about  you  when  I  saw  you  out  there  putting 
those  pretty  shoulders  to  the  domestic  wheel  — 
proud  is  n't  the  name  for  it.  And  let  me  tell  you, 
Janey  Townsend,  it  is  n't  every  girl  who  could 
take  command  of  the  forces  and  have  them 
working  for  you  at  the  top  of  their  ability,  like 
that.  Norah  has  n't  a  nose  and  chin  of  that 
perky  shape  for  nothing;  and  Mary  can  soldier 


IN  GAY  STREET  217 

for  fair  when  she  chooses.  As  for  Sophy  —  but 
you  had  Sophy  for  your  own  from  the  start.  And 
it 's  not  been  done  with  tips,  either,  has  it  ? 
Honestly,  now,  have  you  ever  given  Sophy  a  tip 
since  you  came  to  the  house  ?" 

"A  tip?"  said  Jane.  "Money,  you  mean? 
Why,  no.  Should  I  ?  I  never  thought  of  it. 
Does  she  expect  it  ?" 

"She  probably  doesn't  now  —  from  you  —  or 
want  it,  as  long  as  you  reward  her  with  your 
smiles  and  ask  about  her  invalid  brother,  the 
way  I  overheard  you  doing  the  other  day.  She'd 
probably  rather  have  your  friendly  interest  than 
all  Olive's  dollar  bills.  Oh,  there  are  several 
ways  of  winning  people's  loyalty,  dear  —  and 
yours  is  the  best.  Only  everybody  can't  do  it. 
Do  you  know,  gentle  Jane,  I  'm  a  good  deal  in 
terested  in  seeing  you  in  the  role  of  mistress  of 
this  house  for  a  while  ? ' 

"Murray,  I  'm  so  doubtful  about  it!" 

"You  need  n't  be.  The  commanding  officer 
who  has  proved  to  his  regiment  that  in  an  emer 
gency  he  can  work  with  them,  shoulder  to  shoul 
der  —  and  work  better  than  they  can  —  need 
have  no  fears.  It  '11  just  be  a  case  of  'Bridget, 
Norah,  Sophy,  Mary,  Ellen  —  fall  in!  Shoulder 
arms!  March!'  And  off  the  regiment  will  go, 
heads  up,  chests  out,  eyes  to  the  front." 


CHAPTER  IV 

POT-HOOKS 

I  WANT  to  have  a  talk  with  you,  Murray.** 
"AH  right,  sister,  I  'm  at  your  service." 

"Please  come  over  to  the  seat  beyond  the 
shrubbery,  where  nobody  will  see  or  hear.  It 's 
not  a  very  suitable  place,  but  it 's  better  than 
the  house  this  hot  night." 

"Not  a  suitable  place?"  queried  Murray,  as 
he  followed  Shirley  across  the  lawn.  "Not  so 
fast,  child.  It  is  a  hot  night,  and  I  Ve  only  just 
cooled  off  since  dinner.  It  was  insufferable 
in  the  office  to-day  —  or  would  have  been  if 
anybody  had  had  time  to  stop  and  think  about 
it.  Why  is  n't  that  romantic  seat  beyond  the 
shrubbery  just  the  place  to  talk  ?" 

"Because  the  talk  has  no  romance  about  it. 
The  office  would  be  the  place  for  it,  only  you  Ve 
no  time  to  give  me  if  I  should  come  there." 

"You  excite  my  curiosity."  Murray  disposed 
himself  comfortably  upon  the  wide  rustic  seat, 
screened  from  all  beholders  without  and  within 
the  grounds,  not  only  by  shrubbery  and  hedges, 

218 


IN  GAY  STREET  219 

but  by  the  fast  deepening  Jul}  twilight.  "Fir» 
away.  Anything  gone  wrong  ?" 

"  Nothing  —  except  me." 

"You  alarm  me." 

"Don't  joke.     I  'm  serious." 

"I  see  you  are.  And  that's  what  alarms  me. 
Seriousness,  at  eighteen  - 

"  I  'm  nineteen  —  nearly  twenty.  And  I  'm  not 
only  serious  —  I  'm  cross.  Murray,  I  want 
something  to  do." 

"  Have  n't  you  plenty  ?  Jane  tells  me  she 
could  n't  get  on  without  you." 

"Jane  is  a  dear.  And  I  love  to  help  her.  But 
I  want  to  be  doing  something  —  else.  I  want  to 
amount  to  something.  I  want  to  learn  something." 

"  Miss  Cockburn's  finishing-school  did  n't  finish 
then  ?  Is  college  the  bee  you  have  in  your 
bonnet  ?" 

"No,  I  'm  afraid  I  'm  too  unsettled  for  that 
now  —  I  don't  know  why.  Once  I  spent  a 
whole  week  trying  to  convince  mother  I  must 
go  to  college  instead  of  to  school  in  England. 
But  I  don't  want  that  any  more.  I  want  — 
Murray,  please  don't  laugh  when  I  tell  you!" 

"Why  should  I  laugh?  It's  plain  you 
mean  business  of  some  sort,  and  I  'm  honoured  by 
your  confidence.  Go  ahead,  little  girl,  and 
don't  be  afraid  of  your  big  brother." 


220  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"Well,  then,  I  want  to  learn  stenography 
and  typewriting."  It  came  with  a  rush,  and 
after  it  Shirley  sat  still,  one  hand  holding  the 
other  tightly  while  she  waited  for  the  explosion 
she  expected. 

It  did  not  come.  Murray  turned  his  head 
until  she  could  feel  that  he  was  looking  directly 
at  her  through  the  dim  light.  He  sat  up  slightly, 
and  thrust  his  hands  deeper  down  into  his  pockets 
—  a  masculine  action  which  usually  indicates 
concentration  of  attention.  He  was  silent  for 
a  full  minute  before  he  spoke.  When  he  did 
speak,  it  was  in  the  tone  that  one  man  uses  to 
another  when  the  basis  of  their  intercourse  is 
that  of  mutual  respect. 

"Would  you  mind  giving  me  your  idea?  It's 
plain  you  have  thought  something  out  to  the 
end.  I  need  to  know  it  from  the  beginning, 
if  you  want  any  advice  worth  while/' 

"I  can,  now  I  know  that  you're  not  going 
to  knock  me  down  with  arguments  against  it 
before  you  know  mine  for  it." 

"That  would  be  poor  policy.  That's  the 
boomerang  sort  of  argument — the  one  that  comes 
back  at  one's  self.  Besides,  I've  too  much  confi 
dence  in  my  sister's  good  judgment  to  believe 
that  she  would  fire  a  proposition  like  that  at  me 
without  a  reason  back  of  it." 


IN  GAY  STREET  221 

"The  reason  is  easy.  I'm  restless  for  some 
thing  to  do.  I  don't  want  to  be  a  next  season's 
debutante,  and  go  through  a  winter  like  the 
five  Olive  has  spent.  I  want  to  work.  I  want 
to  fit  myself  to  be  independent.  If  anything 
should  happen  to  father's  money,  I  don't 
want  to  be  like  the  Desmond  girls  after  their 
father's  failure,  as  helpless  as  baby  birds  pushed 
out  of  the  nest.  Olive  could  n't  do  a  thing. 
Forrest  is  just  an  idler.  You  have  Jane  to  take 
care  of.  But  I  —  I  could  be  learning  to  support 
myself." 

"The  business  is  in  fine  condition.  We  never 
were  so  substantial  a  firm  as  now.  There 's 
very  little  danger  of  our  going  to  pot." 

"That  may  be,"  said  Shirley,  "though  things 
do  happen,  Murray,  out  of  a  clear  sky.  But 
that's  not  my  real  reason.  My  real  reason  is  a 
genuine,  great  big  longing  to  amount  to  something. 
I  never  come  down  to  the  office  without  envying 
the  girls  I  see  there.  I  envy  them  because  they 
have  to  do  it  —  because  they  're  supporting 
themselves  and  somebody  else  by  it." 

"Do  you  mean  that  you  would  like  a  position 
in  our  office  ?" 

"Oh,  would  n't  I!  If  I  could  study  and  study, 
and  practise  and  practise,  and  then  some  day 
take  a  dictation  from  you  or  father  and  bring 


222  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

you  a  perfect  copy,  3  ben'eve  I  'd  be  —  Murray, 
I  'd  be  she  happiest  girl  that  ever  lived!" 

*' You  mean  that,  do  you  ?" 

"I  do." 

"  Have  you  thought  that  if  you  took  a  position 
in  our  office,  or  in  any  other,  you  'd  be  shutting 
out  some  poor  girl  who  really  needs  the  salary  ?" 

"Yes,  I've  thought  of  it.  I  know  that's  an 
argument  against  it.  But,  Murray,  don't  you 
think  the  rich  men's  daughters  need  employ 
ment  sometimes  quite  as  much  as  the  poor 
ones  do  ?  Why,  I  'm  telling  you  I  envy  the 
poor  ones!" 

"I  know;  but  the  fact  remains  that  they  need 
the  money,  and  you  don't." 

"Are  n't  you  keeping  some  poor  man  out  of 
the  salary  you  get  by  taking  the  place  of  father's 
right  hand  man  ?" 

Murray  laughed.  "There's  a  back-hander  for 
me!  But  I  'm  practically  a  partner,  you  know, 
and  a  firm  can't  do  without  its  heads,  no  matter 
Jiow  many  poor  fellows  would  like  the  job." 

"And  you  have  the  right  to  make  something 
of  yourself.  But  I  have  n't  because  I  should 
be  taking  work  away  from  some  girl  who  needs 
it.  I  don't  want  to  do  that.  I  'd  work  for  nothing, 
or  give  my  salary  away." 

"Ah,    but   that   wouldn't   solve   the    problem. 


IN  GAY  STREET  223 

The  girl  whose  job  you  took  from  her  would  n't 
accept  your  salary  from  you." 

"Then,  just  because  a  girl's  father  can  support 
her,  must  she  give  up  learning  how  to  support 
herself  ?  And  the  fun  of  doing  it  ?" 

"What  do  you  expect  the  family  to  say 
about  it?" 

"Of  course  they  won't  like  it.  Except  father. 
I  think  he  will." 

"Possibly,  after  you  have  wheedled  him  and 
hung  round  his  neck.  Well,  do  you  feel  you 
have  a  right  to  disappoint  mother  and  Olive, 
as  you  will  do,  if  you  so  much  as  begin  on  this 
course,  to  say  nothing  of  sticking  to  it  ?" 

Shirley  was  silent  for  a  moment.  Then  she 
answered,  very  gently,  "I  should  be  sorry  for 
that,  of  course,  but  I  think  I  have  the  right 
Devoting  one's  self  to  society  can't  be  a  duty  ont 
owes  to  one's  family,  if  one  does  n't  feel  satisfied 
with  that  life.  And  my  learning  to  earn  my 
own  living  won't  disgrace  my  family — not  in  these 
days  of  millionaire  milliners  and  violet  raisers." 

"No,  it  won't  disgrace  your  family.  Instead, 
it  makes  one  member  of  it  sit  up  and  look  at 
his  small  sister  with  a  good  deal  of  respect.  If 
you  take  hold  of  the  thing,  you  '11  go  through 
with  it.  I  've  not  the  least  doubt  of  that,  for 
you  're  no  quitter." 


224  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"Thank  you.  Then  will  you  go  with  me 
to  talk  with  father  about  it  ?" 

"When?" 

"Now.     He  's  in  the  library." 

Murray  got  up.  "You  are  in  earnest,"  he 
remarked.  "Yes,  I  '11  go  with  you.  But  you  '11 
find  the  question  will  have  to  be  pretty  thoroughly 
threshed  out  with  him  before  he  agrees.  He 
employs  none  but  experts;  you  '11  have  to  win 
your  spurs  before  you  can  wear  them.  And 
good  stenographers  are  born,  not  made.  If 
you  've  got  it  in  you,  you  '11  succeed;  if  you  have  n't, 
you  won't,  no  matter  how  hard  you  try." 

He  could  not  see  his  sister's  eyes,  but  he  could 
read  the  determination  in  her  voice  as  she  an 
swered  that  it  was  the  expectation  of  winning 
those  spurs  that  made  her  heart  jump  just  to 
think  about  it. 

It  was  a  fortnight  after  this  talk,  and  the  longer 
and  more  earnest  one  which  succeeded  it,  that, 
coming  away  from  the  factory  one  warm  July 
afternoon  at  an  earlier  hour  than  usual,  Peter  Bell 
happened  upon  his  young  neighbour  in  a  most 
unexpected  place.  Far  downtown,  blocks  below 
the  usual  shopping  district,  he  saw  Shirley  Towns- 
end  come  out  of  a  doorway  and  start  rapidly 
up  the  street.  She  had  not  seen  him,  and  he 
was  too  far  away  to  call  to  her,  so  he  was  forced 


IN  GAY  STREET  225 

to  quicken  his  pace  almost  to  a  run  to  overtake 
her  at  the  next  corner  before  she  signalled  her  car. 
She  had  walked  so  fast  that  the  best  he  could 
do  was  to  run  and  swing  himself  aboard  the  same 
car  just  as  it  got  under  way.  The  car  was  full, 
and  Shirley  herself  was  obliged  to  stand,  clinging 
to  a  strap.  Peter  secured  a  strap  beside  her. 
There  was  little  chance  for  conversation  during 
the  long  ride  uptown,  but  Peter's  eyes  were 
observant,  and  he  noticed  a  peculiarity  in  Shirley's 
attire. 

At  an  hour  in  the  afternoon  when  the  girls 
of  her  sort  would  all  be  wearing  light  frocks 
and  ribbons,  Shirley  was  dressed  like  the  girls 
in  the  office  he  had  just  left.  With  a  difference 
-which  Peter's  eyes  also  discerned,  although 
he  could  not  have  told  just  where  the  difference 
lay.  Shirley's  white  blouse,  her  blue  serge  skirt, 
her  sailor  hat,  her  trim  shoes,  all  bore  about 
them  the  stamp  of  quality,  indefinable,  yet  not 
to  be  denied. 

As  for  her  face,  Peter  thought  he  had  never 
seen  it  so  alight  with  life.  The  smile  she  had 
flashed  at  him  was  brilliant.  He  was  glad  he 
had  caught  the  car.  It  was  a  decided  en- 
livenment  of  the  long  ride,  monotonous  with 
daily  repetition,  just  to  stand  beside  the  trim, 
swaving  figure,  and  occasionally  exchange  a  word 


226  ROUND  THE  CORNER  \ 

with  its  possessor.  Besides,  he  was  feeling  not  a 
little  curiosity  as  to  the  errand  which  had  taken 
her  to  a  place  where  hung  the  sign  of  a  well-known 
commercial  college. 

"It  is  a  hot  day,  isn't  it?"  observed  Shirley, 
when  he  had  handed  her  off  the  car,  and  they 
were  walking  up  Gay  Street  toward  Worthingtcn 
Square.  "Just  the  day  to  get  into  the  country. 
I  'd  like  a  gallop  over  about  ten  miles  of  good 
roads  —  just  to  feel  the  wind  in  my  face." 

"It  would  be  great,  wouldn't  it?"  agreed 
Peter. 

She  looked  up  at  him.  "You  and  Olive  don't 
ride  as  much  as  you  used  to." 

"She  has  n't  seemed  to  care  for  it  for  the  last 
year  or  so." 

"Hasn't  she  asked  you  to  ride  Grayback 
whenever  you  wanted  ?" 

"She's  been  very  kind  about  offering  him. 
But  I  don't  like  to  go  over  and  order  him  out 
myself." 

"He  's  pining  for  exercise.  So  is  Pretty  Polly, 
though  I  had  one  short  canter  on  her  before 
breakfast.  You  've  never  been  out  with  me  on 
horseback.  Perhaps  you  don't  know  I  can  ride." 

"I  have  my  eyesight.  And  as  for  inviting 
you  to  go  with  me  —  how  can  I,  when  you  have 
the  horses  ?  If  you  're  asking  me  to  go  with 


IN  GAY  STREET  227 

you  —  there  's  nothing  on  earth  I  'd   rather  do 
just  now." 

"I  believe  that,"  thought  Shirley,  as  she  ran 
into  the  house  to  change  her  clothes.  "If  ever 
a  man  looked  as  if  he  'd  like  to  drop  his  cares 
and  get  off  on  a  horse's  back,  Peter  does  to-day." 

In  a  few  minutes  she  was  crossing  the  lawn, 
in  her  riding  habit,  crop  in  hand.  Peter  met 
her,  himself  in  riding  trim.  His  face  showed 
his  pleasure  in  the  prospect,  as  he  put  her  up 
and  swung  into  his  own  saddle. 

'If  wishes  were  horses,'  "  he  quoted,  as  they 
turned  toward  the  Northboro  road.  "And  some 
times  they  are.  An  hour  ago  I  was  looking  out 
of  the  office  window  at  the  factory,  and  wishing 
for  this  very  sort  of  thing.  I  ought  to  see  Grand 
father  Bell.  Do  you  mind  if  we  go  that  way  ?" 

"  I  'm  fond  of  that  way.  It  will  give  us  a  good 
gallop  down  the  old  turnpike,  and  a  cool  walk 
through  the  woods  to  freshen  the  horses." 

Once  out  of  the  city  they  were  off  at  a  brisk 
trot,  talking  a  little  now  and  then,  but  mostly 
busy  with  thoughts.  They  had  seen  so  little  of 
each  other  since  Shirley's  return  that  a  sense 
of  having  begun  a  new  acquaintanceship  hampered 
them  both.  They  had  not  yet  found  common 
ground. 

"Now  for  the  gallop,"  said  Shirley,  as  they 


228  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

rounded  a  turn  and  came  out  upon  a  long,  level 
stretch  of  road,  with  few  vehicles  in  sight. 

"This  is  the  spot  where  your  sister  lost  most 
of  her  hairpins,  when  she  took  her  first  ride  with 
me,"  said  Peter,  indicating  to  Grayback  that  a 
change  of  pace  was  in  order.  "I  don't  think 
she  'd  ever  had  such  a  dashing  get-away  before. 
Off",  are  you  ?  Well,  well,  you  do  mean  business, 
don't  you  ?  All  right,  I  'm  with  you.  But  don't 
expect  me  to  recover  the  hairpins!"  he  called, 
as  Grayback  picked  up  the  pace  Pretty  Polly 
had  set. 

But  both  Pretty  Polly  and  her  rider  were  evi 
dently  on  their  mettle,  and  Grayback,  bigger 
and  longer  of  stride  though  he  was,  had  to  look 
to  his  heels  to  keep  up  with  the  little  brown 
mare. 

Shirley  proved  a  daring  rider,  and  before  she 
finally  pulled  Polly  down  to  a  canter  she  certainly 
had  felt  the  wind  in  her  face  with  a  rush. 

When  she  looked  round  at  Peter,  as  they  entered 
the  mile-long  course  of  wood-shaded  road  which 
succeeded  the  turnpike,  she  met  a  brighter  smile 
than  she  had  seen  on  his  face  since  she  came 
home,  two  months  before.  Once  more,  for  the 
moment,  he  looked  the  care-free  boy  again. 

"You  may  be  a  pupil  of  the  riding-schools, 
but  you  Ve  taken  plenty  of  road-training  since," 


IN  GAY  STREET  229' 

was  his  comment.  "And  not  a  hairpin  loose, 
so  far  as  I  can  see." 

"That's  because  I  always  tie  my  mop  with 
a  ribbon  for  riding,  like  any  schoolgirl.  It's 
childish,  but  comfortable.  Is  n't  this  deliciously 
cool  in  here  ?  And  I  've  forgotten  all  about 
the  pothooks  already."  But  having  said  this, 
Shirley  bit  her  lip.  She  had  not  meant  to  tell 
yet. 

"  Pothooks  f"  repeated  Peter,  curiously.  "  Have 
you  been  bothered  by  pothooks  lately  ?" 

"A  trifle."  She  turned  away  her  head,  and 
pointed  out  a  fine  clump  of  ferns,  growing  on 
a  bank  by  the  roadside. 

"Do  you  want  them?"  he  asked. 

"No,  no,  not  enough  to  get  down  for.  I  — 
said  something  I  did  n't  mean  to,  and  the  ferns 
offered  a  way  of  escape." 

Peter  was  silent,  wondering  what  she  could  mean. 

Then  Shirley  said,  frankly: 

"That  sounds  rude,  and  I  'm  going  to  tell  you." 

"Not  because  something  slipped  out.  I  won't 
even  guess  at  it,  unless  you  want  me  to." 

"I  do  —  now.  I  think  I  'd  like  to  tell  you, 
though  not  even  Nancy  knows  yet.  My  family 
do  —  but  I  don't  think  even  they  quite  realise 
what  it  means  to  me.  Perhaps  you  would." 

"I'd  like  to  try." 


230  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"I  —  have  begun  to  study  stenography,"  said 
Shirley.  "  When  I  've  learned  it  —  and  type 
writing  —  thoroughly,  I  'm  to  have  a  place  in 
Murray's  office." 

She  said  it  with  her  eyes  looking  straight 
between  her  horse's  ears;  and  she  did  not  see  the 
quick,  astonished  glance  which  fell  upon  her. 

Peter  made  no  answer  for  so  long  that  she 
turned,  wondering  and  a  little  resentful. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Peter.  "I  believe 
I  forgot  to  answer.  But  that  was  n't  from  lack 
of  interest.  You  took  my  breath  away.  When 
I  got  it  back  I  fell  to  thinking  that  I  might  have 
expected  it  of  you." 

"You  might?    Why?" 

"  I  'm  not  good  at  telling  my  thoughts.  But 
I  knew  you  had  a  mind  of  your  own  from  the 
day  you  first  gave  Nancy  Bell  of  Gay  Street 
the  preference  over  the  little  Hille  girl  of 
Worthington  Square." 

"  Gay  Street  was  sixteen  times  more  interesting 
than  Worthington  Square,  always,"  declared 
Shirley,  frankly. 

"How  do  you  like  the  pothooks  ?" 

"  I  'm  going  to  like  them,  whether  they  're 
likable  or  not.  Just  now  I  'm  in  a  sort  of  delirium 
over  them.  Little  black  quirls  and  dots  and 
dashes  walk  through  my  dreams  I've  had 


IN  GAY  STREET  231 

just  one  week  of  it  now,  and  I  'm  fascinated. 
The  only  trouble  is,  I  want  to  get  hold  of  every 
thing  at  once." 

"Hold  steady  and  make  sure  as  you  go.  Slow 
accuracy  at  first  is  much  better  than  a  fast  jumble 
that  you  can't  read  yourself.  If  you  like  it, 
and  are  getting  hold  of  it  already,  that  shows  you 
are  going  to  win  out.  It  's  easy  to  tell,  from  the 
start,  who  '11  make  a  stenographer  in  the  end 
and  who  won't." 

"  That 's  what  Murray  says,  and  it  encourages 
me.  You  've  studied  it  yourself,  then  ?" 

"Taught  myself  in  odd  hours;  thought  it  might 
be  useful  some  time,  and  it  has  been,  many  times. 
I  can  show  you  a  lot  of  technical  short  cuts  that 
will  be  of  use  to  you,  when  you  're  familiar  with 
the  regular  method." 

"Oh,  thank  you  —  I'll  be  grateful.  Come 
Polly  —  you  've  cooled  off  —  try  a  smooth  little 
canter  for  a  while." 

At  Grandfather  Bell's  Peter  took  Shirley 
down  and  sent  her  to  roam  about  the  great 
orchard,  while  he  hunted  up  the  old  gentleman 
and  had  a  talk  with  him.  This  consumed 
nearly  an  hour,  and  when  they  were  off  upon  the 
road  once  more,  Shirley  discovered  that  the  care 
free  look  had  vanished  from  her  companion's 
f-\ctr  and  that  his  mouth  had  taken  again  the 


232  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

grave  expression  it  had  acquired  after  she  went 
away  to  school. 

She  let  him  ride  to  the  edge  of  the  woods, 
four  miles  toward  home,  in  the  abstracted  silence 
which  had  fallen  upon  him;  but  as  they  came 
under  the  first  cool  shadows,  she  brought  Pretty 
Polly  down  to  a  walk,  and  began  to  talk  lightly 
about  Murray  and  Jane,  and  the  successful  way 
in  which  Jane  had  taken  up  the  cares  of  managing 
the  big  house  and  its  affairs.  Peter  obediently  fol 
lowed  her  lead,  but  after  a  short  time  she  discovered 
that  he  gave  her  his  attention  only  by  an  effort. 

She  longed  to  know  what  was  the  matter, 
for  that  something  had  gone  wrong  with  him 
she  was  more  than  ever  sure.  Two  years  ago 
she  would  have  demanded,  with  the  familiarity 
of  long  acquaintance,  an  explanation  of  any 
cloud  upon  his  brow,  for  she  and  Peter  had  been 
as  good  friends  as  seventeen  and  twenty-six  may 
be,  when  the  families  of  both  are  united  by  certain 
common  interests.  But  somehow  nineteen  and 
twenty-eight  had  not  yet  recovered  quite  the  old 
ground  of  mutual  frankness,  and  Shirley's  anxious 
questions  halted  upon  her  lips. 

They  had  another  gallop  when  they  came  to 
the  smooth  stretch,  but  this  time,  although  Peter 
said,  "That  was  a  good  one,  was  n't  it  ?"  his  face 
did  not  clear. 


IN  GAY  STREET  233 

Just  before  they  reached  home,  however,  he 
appeared  to  realise  all  at  once  that  he  must  have 
been  poor  company,  and  said  so,  with  a  word  of 
regret. 

"I  don't  mind  a  bit,"  said  Shirley.  "One 
does  n't  always  feel  like  talking.  And  I  know 
in  your  position,  you  must  have  a  good  many 
cares." 

"A  few.  I  'm  afraid  I  'm  not  good  at  carrying 
them,  since  I  let  myself  keep  them  on  my  own 
shoulders,  even  on  horseback.  They  fell  off  on 
the  way  out,  but  at  the  farm  they  climbed  up 
Gray  back's  tail  again.  I  'm  sorry,  for  you  've 
been  jolly  company,  and  I  've  honestly  enjoyed 
the  ride  more  than  anything  that  has  happened 
in  a  year." 

"  We  '11  go  again,  then,  on  another  half-holiday, 
and  next  time  we  '11  leave  Black  Care  behind 
altogether.  Or,  if  you  will  take  him  along  you 
shall  introduce  me.  Will  you  ?" 

Her  look  was  so  girlishly  sympathetic  and 
inviting,  Peter  could  hardly  be  blamed  for  finding 
a  ray  of  comfort  in  it,  although  he  only  said 
stoutly: 

"That  would  n't  be  fair." 

"  Indeed  it  would.  What  are  one  's  friends 
for  ?  And  Black  Care  does  n't  like  the  society 
of  two." 


234  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"That 's  true.  But  he  's  not  a  desirable 
acquaintance,  and  I  don't  mean  to  introduce 
him  to  you.  Remember  the  pothooks  —  they  '11 
keep  you  busy." 

He  smiled  as  he  said  it,  but  Shirley  persisted, 
more  boldly,  for  she  thought  she  detected  the 
fact  that  it  would  be  a  relief  to  Peter  to  tell  some* 
body  his  troubles,  if  his  conscience  would  let  him. 

"  I  've  seen,  ever  since  I  came  home,  that 
something  was  worrying  you.  It 's  made  me  feel 
badly.  Perhaps  just  telling  would  make  it  easier." 

"I  should  imagine  it  might.  I  '11  think  about 
it.  Meanwhile,  thank  you  for  two  fine  hours. 
We  're  back  just  in  time  for  your  dinner  —  and  my 
supper.  Will  you  go  to  the  house  door,  or  dis« 
mount  here  at  the  stable  ?" 

"Here,  please.  And  next  Saturday  we'll  go 
again,  if  you  really  care  to." 

"  I  shall  think  about  it  through  the  week.  Here 
you  are  —  you  don't  half  let  me  help  you.  Success 
to  the  pothooks!  Good-bye!" 


CHAPTER    V 

BLACK   CARE 

ON  THE  following  Saturday  it  rained  all  day, 
and  no  horseback-riding  or  excursions 
of  any  sort  were  possible.  Before  another 
half-holiday  had  come  round,  an  unusual  and 
severe  pressure  of  work  had  overtaken  Peter, 
which  shut  him  off  from  any  leisure  whatever  for 
many  successive  weeks.  Night  after  night,  all 
through  July  and  August,  he  came  home  late  in 
the  evening,  too  weary  for  anything  but  supper 
and  bed.  During  all  this  time  he  saw  little  of 
the  people  in  Worthington  Square. 

As  for  Shirley,  although  she  thought  often 
-of  Peter,  and  was  sorry  that  no  chance 
seemed  to  favour  her  getting  at  the  secret  of  his 
burdens,  whatever  they  might  be,  her  own  work 
absorbed  her.  She  was  proving  a  ready  pupil, 
keen  of  intellect  and  quick  of  eye  and  hand. 
As  she  advanced  in  the  mastery  of  stenography, 
she  became  more  and  more  fascinated  by  its 
details,  and  spent  more  and  more  of  her  spare 
hours  in  practice.  The  typewriting  she  acquired 


236  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

in  an  unexpectedly  short  space  of  time,  but  her 
chief  ambition  was  to  achieve  the  ability  to  take 
dictation  rapidly  and  accurately,  and  to  this 
end  she  laboured  with  much  zeal. 

Nancy  Bell  was  taken  into  confidence,  and 
became  an  active  and  interested  partner.  Many 
were  the  hours  she  spent  with  Shirley,  reading 
aloud  to  her  from  all  sorts  of  books  and  papers, 
with  a  view  to  accustoming  her  to  any  kind  of 
composition. 

"You  certainly  can  do  anything  now,"  Nancy 
said,  one  day  in  late  September,  when  she  had 
given  Shirley  an  unusually  trying  test  at  top  speed, 
and  the  worker  had  typewritten  it  without  an 
error  worth  mentioning. 

"I  'm  not  so  sure."  Shirley  studied  her  paper. 
"I  'm  used  to  you,  and  you  don't  flurry  me  much. 
But  if  I  should  go  to  father  and  offer  myself  for  a 
trial,  I  'm  afraid  I  should  bungle  it." 

"But  you  can't  get  office  practice  without 
office  practice.  Nothing  can  take  its  place  or 
give  you  confidence,  I  should  think.  Why  don't 
you  let  Murray  try  you  ?  If  he  dictates  as  fast 
as  he  talks  when  he  's  discussing  business  with 
Peter,  he  must  be  hard  enough  for  anybody." 

That  evening,  as  Murray  and  Jane,  in  the 
library,  were  discussing  certain  household  matters, 
Shirley,  sitting  at  the  big  table  with  her  note- 


IN  GAY  STREET  237 

book,  turned  a  leaf  and  began  to  take  down  the 
conversation. 

"  Did  I  say  that  ?"  Murray  asked,  toward  the 
close  of  the  conference.  "I  thought  I  put  it 
quite  differently." 

"You  said,  dear,"  said  Jane,  "that  it  ought 
to  cost  that,  not  that  it  did." 

"Are  you  sure?" 

"Quite  sure." 

"I  must  have  been  wandering  in  my  mind. 
I  seem  to  hear  myself  saying  in  a  tone  of  great 
assurance  that  it  actually  did  cost  seventeen 
dollars.  I  could  n't  have  said  anything  else, 
knowing  the  facts." 

Jane  merely  smiled,  sure  of  her  ground,  but 
not  liking  to  dispute  it  further.  Murray  took 
a  turn  up  and  down  the  room,  whistling  softly. 
He  himself  would  not  insist  upon  the  thing  he 
was  sure  he  had  said,  but  he  was  none  the  less 
confident.  It  seemed  to  bring  the  discussion  to 
a  standstill,  as  such  small  differences  of  statement 
sometimes  will. 

Shirley  began  to  read  aloud  from  her  note-book 
a  reproduction  of  the  conversation  which  had 
just  taken  place.  Listening  incredulously, 
Murray  heard  himself  quoted  as  saying  precisely 
that  which  Jane  had  asserted. 

"Look   here,"   said   he,    coming   over   to   the 


238  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

table  and  seizing  upon  the  note-book.  "Are 
you  sure  you  have  that  straight  —  that  you  're 
not  saying  it  from  memory  of  what  Jane  said 
I  said  ?" 

"  I  did  n't  get  every  word  you  said,  but  I  did 
get  that  sentence.  You  brought  out  the  'ought* 
so  strenuously  I  put  the  exact  sign  down." 

"  I  '11  give  in,  of  course,  but  I  '11  have  to  be 
careful  of  what  I  say  in  your  hearing  after  this. 
You  must  be  pretty  good  at  it,  if  you  caught  all 
that  off  our  tongues.  We  were  talking  fairly 
fast,  if  I  remember." 

"You  were  very  nearly  too  fast  for  me  —  in 
spots.  Conversation  's  harder  to  take  than  any 
thing  else.  Do  you  want  to  try  me  on  a  business 
letter  ?" 

"With  pleasure,"  and  Murray  promptly  pulled 
a  letter  out  of  his  pocket,  glanced  it  over,  and 
began  to  dictate  a  reply. 

Before  she  had  done  two  lines,  Shirley  realised 
that  the  actual  receiving  of  dictation  from  a 
man  of  business,  who  was  seriously  putting  her 
to  a  test,  was  quite  different  from  any  amount 
of  practice  with  Nancy  Bell.  Murray's  keen 
eyes  were  upon  her,  he  was  watching  her  fingers 
as  they  flew,  he  was  using  business  terms  with 
which  she  was  not  familiar.  These  technicali 
ties  she  was  forced  to  omit,  but  after  a  little  she 


IN  GAY  STREET  239 

steadied  under  the  consciousness  that  he  was 
speaking  not  too  rapidly,  and  that  he  paused 
now  and  then  between  sentences,  as  if  studying  the 
letter  he  was  answering. 

At  the  end  she  said,  "  I  '11  make  you  a  copy," 
and  flew  out  of  the  room.  Murray  smiled  at 
Jane,  who  had  been  an  interested  witness  of  the 
scene. 

"I  can't  get  used  to  the  idea  that  the  child  is 
serious  in  all  this,"  said  he.  "I  know  she's 
been  working  at  it  all  summer,  but  I  've  seen  so 
little  of  it,  and  she  's  been  so  quiet  about  it,  I 
forget  that  she  means  business.  If  mother  and 
Olive  had  been  at  home  all  this  time  I  should 
have  heard  of  little  else." 

"There  's  no  doubt  of  her  being  in  earnest.  She 
and  Nan  have  practised  by  the  hour,"  answered 
Jane.  "I  think  you'll  find  her  copy  pretty 
correct." 

"I  doubt  it.  She  certainly  caught  the  gist 
of  our  conversation,  but  that 's  comparatively 
easy,  for  her  memory  would  help  out  on  the  sort 
of  thing  we  were  saying.  But  when  it  comes 
to  getting  it  word  for  word,  as  a  business  letter 
must,  she  '11  find  that 's  another  thing." 

Shirley  came  back  presently  and  handed  her 
brother  the  letter.  He  read  it  through  carefully. 
"By  Jove!"  he  ejaculated,  and  looked  at  his  sister. 


240  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"I  had  to  leave  spaces  for  the  words  you  used 
that  I  had  never  heard,"  said  she.  "  I  did  n't  think 
of  it  before,  but  there  must  be  a  lot  of  such  words 
in  your  correspondence.  Would  you  mind  mak 
ing  me  out  a  list  of  them,  or  giving  me  a  catalogue  ? 
Next  time  I  '11  know  them." 

"  I  '11  warrant  you  will.  Except  for  them, 
you  Ve  practically  every  word  just  as  I  gave 
it  to  you.  See  here,  when  have  you  done  it  ? 
You  have  n't  had  time  to  accomplish  so  much. 
It  takes  at  least  six  months  to  make  a  respectable 
stenographer.  You  Ve  been  at  it  but  four. 
Come  here  and  let  me  look  at  you.  By  rights 
you  ought  to  have  grown  thin.  No,  I  can't 
see  that  you  have.'* 

"  Of  course  I  have  n't.  I  Ve  never  been  so 
happy  in  my  life." 

"Miss  Henley,  who  is  in  the  office,  is  going 
to  be  married  in  October."  He  studied  her  face 
keenly. 

She  looked  at  him  with  eager  eyes.  He  laughed. 
"  If  you  were  a  pauper  with  a  family  to  support, 
you  could  n't  look  more  appealing,"  he  said. 
"Well,  keep  pegging  away,  and  I  '11  recommend 
you  to  father." 

Mrs.  Harrison  Townsend  did  not  come  home 
at  all  that  autumn.  Instead,  she  sailed  foi 


IN  GAY  STREET  241 

Italy,  taking  Olive  with  her.  From  Europe 
Mrs.  Townsend  wrote  Murray  a  letter  which 
he  showed  to  no  one,  but  which  gave  him  no 
little  discomfort  of  mind. 

"I  am  much  better  away,"  she  wrote,  "where 
I  shall  not  be  in  the  throes  of  the  revolution 
which  has  overtaken  my  household.  With  Jane 
refusing  many  of  her  most  important  invitations, 
Forrest  away,  and  Shirley  casting  herself  into 
the  business  world,  like  any  poor  man's  daughter, 
I  should  be  too  distressed  to  be  able  to  play  my 
own  part  with  composure.  I  hear  that  Jane 
is  not  keeping  up  her  calling  list  as  conscientiously 
as  she  should  do.  Please  try  to  impress  her  with 
her  duty  to  our  friends,  even  if  she  does  not  care 
to  make  them  hers.  When  I  return,  I  shall 
wish  to  take  up  my  social  life  where  I  left  it, 
and  if  I  should  find  my  friends  alienated  by  the 
eccentricity  of  my  daughter-in-law,  I  should  feel 
that  a  wrong  had  been  done  which  it  would  be 
difficult  to  overlook." 

"About  the  hardest  thing  in  the  world,"  thought 
Murray,  as  he  pondered  these  lines,  "seems  to 
be  for  one  woman  to  get  another's  point  of  view. 
Here  's  Jane,  staying  at  home  all  summer  to  keep 
me  company,  when  she  might  have  gone  off  to 
the  seaside  or  the  mountains  with  Olive.  She  's 
tackling  big  problems  every  day  in  the  manage- 


242  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

ment  of  the  house,  to  say  nothing  of  looking  after 
all  mother's  social  correspondence.  She  's  enter 
tained  relatives  of  ours  from  in  town  and  from 
out  of  town,  to  say  nothing  of  making  father's 
evenings  pleasant  and  seeing  to  her  own  family. 
Yet  because  some  woman  on  mother's  list  writes 
her  that  Jane  has  failed  to  pay  a  call  within  the 
required  limit  of  time,  the  poor  girl  is  'eccentric.' 
Well,  she  shall  not  be  taxed  with  it,  if  I  can  help  it." 

Feeling  that  Jane,  although  unconscious  of 
the  elder  woman's  dissatisfaction  with  her  endeav 
ours,  should  have  amends  made  her  after  some 
fashion,  Murray  arranged  to  take  her  with  him 
upon  a  week's  business  trip,  a  flying  journey 
half-way  across  the  continent  and  back.  In 
the  absence  of  Mrs.  Townsend  and  Olive,  this 
left  Shirley  and  her  father  quite  alone  for  a  week. 

One  of  the  evenings  of  that  week  Mr.  Townsend 
spent  with  Joseph  Bell  —  as  was  now  his  frequent 
custom.  On  this  evening  Shirley  settled  down  with 
a  book  before  the  library  fire.  She  had  been 
working  harder  and  harder  to  perfect  herself 
for  the  position  which  she  had  been  assured  should 
be  hers  upon  the  resignation  of  Miss  Henley,  a 
fortnight  hence.  And  she  had  at  last  arrived 
at  that  state  of  confidence  in  her  own  powers 
which  permitted  an  occasional  indulgence  in  an 
idle  evening  without  a  twinge  of  conscience. 


IN  GAY  STREET  243 

The  book  proved  so  entertaining  that  an  hour 
passed,  during  which  she  took  no  note  of  time. 
She  could  not  have  told  whether  it  was  late  or 
early,  when  a  slight  stir  in  the  hall  brought  her 
attention  to  the  fact  that  somebody  was  there, 
awaiting  her  recognition.  She  looked  up  to  see 
Peter  Bell  standing  in  the  doorway,  his  face  so 
grave  and  worn  that  she  gave  a  little  cry  of  amaze 
ment. 

"Why,  Peter!"  she  said,  and  came  forward 
to  give  him  her  hand.  He  looked  down  at  her 
almost  as  if  he  did  not  see  her.  His  hand  was 
cold. 

"You  Jve  been  out  in  the  wet  —  you  're  chilled," 
she  said,  eagerly  drawing  him  toward  the  fire. 
"Why,  you  're  very  wet!  You  did  n't  have  an 
umbrella." 

"  I  believe  I  did  n't,"  Peter  answered,  glancing 
at  his  coat-sleeve,  which  was,  indeed,  almost 
dripping  with  dampness.  "I  Ve  been  walking 
a  long  way  —  I  don't  know  how  far." 

He  took  the  big  armchair  which  she  offered 
him,  but  she  stood  regarding  his  moist  condition 
with  concern.  His  visits  were  too  few  to  make 
her  willing  to  run  the  risk  of  losing  this  one  by 
suggesting  that  he  ought  not  to  sit  down  in  his  wet 
coat;  and  after  a  moment  she  ran  away  and  came 
back  with  a  house  coat  of  Murray's. 


244  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"Please  put  this  on,"  she  said. 

Peter  protested  that  he  had  no  need  of  taking 
such  precautions,  but  Shirley  persisted  until 
he  obeyed  her  and  donned  the  coat,  throwing 
his  own  upon  a  chair,  whence  she  rescued  it 
and  hung  it  where  it  might  have  a  chance  to  dry. 

"Now  rest  and  be  comfortable,"  said  she, 
drawing  her  own  small  chair  into  a  friendly 
nearness  to  the  big  one,  "and  tell  me  what's 
wrong.  It  needs  to  be  told  at  once,  I  know  — 
or  I  'd  try  to  talk  about  something  else  first." 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  could  n't  talk  about  anything 
else  first,"  said  Peter.  "Yet  I  don't  know  that 
I  can  talk  about  this.  But  —  I  had  to  come. 
There  was  no  one  else  I  could  go  to.  I  \*e  stood 
all  the  rest  by  myself,  but  this " 

He  stopped  short,  as  if  he  could  not  go  on. 
Something  about  his  appearance  made  Shirley's 
heart  begin  to  beat  fast  with  apprehension.  It 
must  be  a  very  bad  trouble  indeed  which  could 
make  Peter  act  so  unlike  himself,  Peter  the 
strong,  the  self-reliant. 

Her  mind  went  back  in  a  flash  to  the  day,  weeks 
before,  when  he  had  half  promised  to  give  her 
his  confidence  in  regard  to  matters  which  it  was 
evident  were  bothering  him.  But  he  had  not 
looked  then  in  the  least  like  this.  It  had  been 
merely  business  care  which  was  heavy  on  his 


IN  GAY  STREET  245 

shoulders  at  that  time.  This  was  trouble,  or  she 
did  not  know  the  signs.  His  set  face,  upon  which 
her  welcome  had  brought  no  hint  of  an  answering 
smile,  the  lines  about  his  mouth,  the  suggestion 
of  pallor  which  was  already  succeeding  to  the 
colour  which  had  been  the  result  of  the  tramp  in 
the  rain,  all  made  her  sure  of  her  conclusions. 

"I  want  to  hear,"  began  Shirley,  very  gently, 
controlling  the  anxiety  in  her  voice.  Then, 
suddenly,  as  a  startling  thought  occurred  to  her, 
*'  Peter,  it 's  not  —  Murray  —  or  Jane  ? —  or 
mother  ?" 

"No,  no,"  said  Peter,  quickly,  turning  to  her. 
"No,  it's  not  your  trouble,  it's  mine  —  ours. 
Only  the  others  don't  know  it  yet.  They  must  n't 
know  it  till  it  —  comes.  That's  why  I  came 
here.  It*  s  not  right  to  burden  you  with  it,  I  'm 
afraid.  But,  somehow  I J 

Shirley  impulsively  put  out  her  hand,  as  if 
to  touch  his.  He  did  not  see  it,  and  she  with 
drew  it  again.  She  longed  to  give  him  comfort 
in  some  way.  Yet,  until  the  story  was  told,  she 
could  not  tell  what  to  do.  If  only  he  would  tell 
it  quickly.  But,  plainly,  it  was  hard  to  tell. 

He  drew  a  deep  breath;  then  sat  up  straight, 
staring  into  the  fire. 

"There  has  been  a  long  succession  of  misfor 
tunes,"  he  began,  slowly.  "I  don't  need  to 


246  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

go  into  those,  though  I  thought  them  bad  enough 
—  until  now.  Now  —  if  it  were  nothing  worse 
than  those  things,  if  I  could  just  go  back  to  them, 
I  'd  shoulder  them  all  gladly,  and  not  mind.  It 
was  property  business,  all  of  it  —  foreclosure 
of  a  heavy  mortgage  threatening  Grandfather 
Bell's  farm,  loss  of  the  little  money  father  had 
got  together  and  put  into  stocks  that  have  gone 
to  pieces  —  that  sort  of  thing.  It  was  up  to 
me  to  straighten  it  all  out  —  and  not  much 
to  do  it  with.  And  father  —  he  seemed  not 
very  well  —  had  two  or  three  queer  attacks  of 
illness  at  the  factory  during  the  hot  weather. 
I  felt  I  could  n't  worry  him  with  it.  He 
seemed  to  be  getting  old  —  all  at  once.  Finally^ 
yesterday  - 

Peter  paused;  then  he  went  on  in  a  lower  voice: 

"Yesterday  he  had  another  of  those  attacks^ 
much  worse  than  before.  A  man  near  him  sent 
for  me,  and  I  sent  for  a  doctor.  The  doctor 
brought  him  round,  but  it  took  some  time.  To- 
day  I  made  him  go  to  another  doctor  —  a  special 
ist.  He  examined  father,  and  told  me  what  it 
was." 

Shirley,  in  a  breathless  silence,  waited. 

"Any  over  -  exertion,  excitement,  worry  — 
anything  —  may  end  it  at  any  time.  If  he  would 
give  up  and  stay  quietly  at  home,  he  might  last 


IN  GAY  STREET  247 

a  good  while.  But  that 's  what  he  won't  do. 
He  knows  it  all  —  took  it  as  coolly  as  if  it  were 
nothing  at  all,  but  won't  give  up.  And  he  won't 
have  anybody  told.  Says  they  'd  never  know 
another  happy  moment  —  and  that 's  true  enough. 
He  '11  just  take  his  chances.  It 's  brave  of  him, 
and  I  can  understand  how  he  feels,  but  the  hard 
thing  for  me  is  —  I  Ve  got  to  keep  still,  and  stand 
by,  and  —  see  it  come." 

With  the  last  word  Peter's  voice  almost  broke. 
He  turned  his  head  away.  Shirley  got  up  and  went 
to  him.  She  laid  one  hand  on  his  shoulder, 
standing  still  beside  him,  her  heart  aching  with 
sympathy,  but  finding  not  a  word  to  say.  In  all 
his  unhappiness,  Peter  recognised  the  light  touch, 
and  putting  up  his  cold  hand  grasped  the  warm 
one.  He  held  it  tight  for  a  minute,  for  the  sense 
of  comradeship  and  comprehension  it  brought 
him  gave  him  courage  to  go  on. 

Shirley  understood  the  warm  and  close  rela 
tions  which  had  always  existed  between  Peter 
and  his  father.  And  she  realised,  with  a  pang, 
that  which  Peter  had  not  mentioned,  but  which 
must  add  its  share  to  the  poignancy  of  his  appre 
hension  —  the  fact  that  with  the  loss  of  the  head 
of  the  family,  the  burden  of  the  support  of  that 
family  must  fall  upon  the  son's  shoulders.  Money 
problems  were  not  to  be  mentioned  in  the  same 


248  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

breath  with  the  threatened  loss  of  a  dear  parent, 
but  the  anxiety  they  were  bound  to  cause  would 
make  Peter's  trouble  immeasurably  more  serious. 

When  Peter  spoke  his  voice  was  steady  again. 

"Of  course  I  'm  facing  nothing  harder  than 
other  people  have  to  face  every  day,  in  one  way  or 
another.  I  mean  to  stand  up  to  it,  like  a  man,  if 
I  can  —  it  would  n't  be  worthy  of  a  chap  with  a 
father  like  mine  to  be  bowled  over  by  what  he 
bears  with  such  courage.  But  it  seemed  to  me  I 
must  tell  somebody,  and  you  —  something  you 
said  weeks  ago,  when  we  went  riding  together, 
made  me  sure  you  would  care." 

"I  do  care,  very,  very  much,"  Shirley  answered. 
"  I  've  wished  ever  so  many  times  since  then  that 
I  knew  what  was  the  matter.  If  you  had  told  me 
that,  it  would  have  been  easier  for  you  to  come  to 
me  with  this,  I  think.  I  'm  so  glad  you  did.  I 
only  wish  —  oh,  how  I  wish  —  there  were  some 
thing  I  could  do!" 

"You  can.  You  're  doing  it  now.  Just  know 
ing  you  know  makes  it  easier.  If  there  were 
anything  I  could  do  myself  I  could  bear  it  better." 

She  slipped  out  of  the  room.  In  a  few  minutes 
she  came  back,  bearing  a  tray,  upon  which  was 
a  cup  of  chocolate  with  a  little  mound  of  whipped 
cream  on  top,  and  beside  it  a  plate  of  sandwiches. 
She  set  her  tray  at  Peter's  elbow. 


IN  GAY  STREET  249 

"  Father  is  so  fond  of  this,  late  in  the  evening, 
that  Cook  keeps  a  double  boiler  ready  on  the 
back  of  the  range,  and  the  rest  of  us  make  use  of 
it,"  she  explained.  "You  may  not  be  hungry, 
but  it  will  be  good  for  you.  Tell  me,  did  you  have 
your  supper  ?" 

"No,  I  haven't  been  home,"  he  owned.  "If 
a  fellow  could  eat  at  all,  he  ought  to  be  able  to 
eat  this." 

To  Shirley's  satisfaction  Peter  consumed  every 
one  of  the  six  thin  sandwiches,  and  when  she 
suggested  a  second  cup  of  chocolate,  he  grate 
fully  accepted  it.  He  had  been  famishing,  though 
he  had  not  known  it.  The  interview  with  the 
specialist  had  taken  place  before  lunch  time,  and 
Peter  had  not  remembered  lunch  at  all. 

Being  human,  and  very  weary,  creature  com 
forts  did  their  part  in  strengthening  him,  in  mind 
as  well  as  body.  When  he  had  finished,  and  had 
spent  another  half-hour  listening  to  Shirley's 
account  of  news  from  Forrest,  who  was  in  the 
West  Indies  now,  he  rose,  a  very  different  young 
man  from  the  one  who  had  come  in  out  of  the 
rain  an  hour  before. 

When  he  had  exchanged  the  velvet  house-coat 
for  the  rough  tweed  one,  now  dried  by  the  fire, 
he  stood  before  her,  hat  in  hand.  He  looked 
down  into  her  friendly  uplifted  face  and  some- 


250  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

thing  very  appreciative  showed  in  his  own.  He 
could  summon  only  the  suggestion  of  a  smile, 
but  his  eyes  were  less  heavy,  his  colour  had  come 
back,  and  resolution  was  once  more  in  his  bearing. 

"You  would  put  heart  into  a  craven,"  he  said, 
shaking  hands. 

"You  're  no  craven,"  answered  Shirley,  return 
ing  the  look  steadily  with  her  frank  eyes,  "bul 
one  of  the  stoutest-hearted  I  ever  knew.  I  knov» 
lots  more  about  you  than  you  think,  and  I  knov< 
what  you  have  been  facing  all  these  years  in  the 
way  of  sticking  to  work  you  did  n't  like." 

"That 's  nothing.  Everybody  does  that,  if  he 
amounts  to  anything." 

"Everybody  doesn't.  But  it's  made  you 
strong  and  brave.  You  're  brave  now  —  and 
you  're  going  to  be  braver  yet." 

He  studied  her  a  moment  in  silence.  Then 
the  smile  she  had  missed  shone  briefly  out  upon 
her  as  Peter  said  fervently:  "If  I  am,  it  will  be 
thanks  to  you,  my  friend.  Good  night!" 


CHAPTER  VI 

A   BREAKDOWN 

NOW  make  her  come!"  commanded  Marian 
Hille,  as  her  brother  Brant  brought  his 
big  green  motor-car  to  a  stand  in  front  of  the 
great  building  belonging  to  Townsend  &  Com 
pany.  "Don't  let  her  refuse.  How  she  can 
spend  her  days  down  here,  drudging  away,  1 
don't  see!  Brant,  tell  her  I  shall  simply  never 
forgive  her  if  she  does  n't  shut  up  that  type- 
Writer  at  once  and  come  along." 

"  I  '11  say  what  seems  to  me  to  suit  the  situation," 
declared  her  brother,  sliding  out  of  his  seat  and 
divesting  himself  of  his  motoring  coat.  "  Whethel 
it  will  make  any  impression  I  *m  not  so  sure." 

He  walked  leisurely  off,  but  when  he  was 
inside  the  building  he  made  a  short  trip  of  it  to 
the  fifth  floor  and  the  offices.  He  was  quite 
as  anxious  as  his  sister  for  the  success  of  his 
errand. 

Murray  himself  welcomed  young  Hille  cordi 
ally,  and  when  Brant  asked  for  Shirley,  he  led 
his  visitor  into  an  inner  office.  Here  Brant  stood 

251 


252  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

still,  gazing  with  interest.  He  had  not  yet  seen 
his  old  acquaintance  at  her  new  tasks. 

Shirley  sat  before  a  typewriting  machine,  hei 
fingers  playing  as  lightly  and  swiftly  over  the  keys, 
for  all  Brant  could  see,  as  those  of  any  veteran 
at  the  business.  The  girl  did  not  look  up. 
Plainly  she  was  much  absorbed  in  her  work,  a 
little  flush  on  her  cheek,  her  eyes  devouring  the 
"copy"  before  her  in  the  shape  of  her  note-book, 
held  open  by  a  device  above  her  machine. 

Brant  turned  to  look  at  Murray,  and  Murray 
smiled. 

"She  looks  as  if  she  enjoyed  it!"  Brant 
exclaimed,  under  his  breath. 

"She  does.     No  question  of  that." 

"It  '11  wear  off,  don't  you  think?" 

"I  doubt  it." 

He  walked  over  and  stood  at  her  elbow,  waiting. 
Shirley  paid  him  no  attention  while  she  finished 
the  long  business  letter  before  her,  and  she  would 
not  have  turned  then  if  her  brother  had  not  said 
quietly,  "A  caller  is  waiting  to  see  you,  Miss 
Townsend." 

Then  she  glanced  up,  and  rose,  pulling  a 
glove  finger  from  the  forefinger  of  her  right  hand 
before  she  let  the  visitor  take  it.  "I  still  seem  to 
give  this  finger  a  bit  of  extra  work,"  she  said 
smiling. 


IN  GAY  STREET  253 

Brant  said  a  complimentary  thing  or  two  in 
recognition  of  her  businesslike  command  of  the 
typewriter,  and  then  proceeded  to  put  his  case. 

As  she  knew,  a  November  house  party  was  in 
progress  at  the  Hildreth's  country  place,  eighteen 
miles  out.  He  and  Marian  had  come  in  on  an 
errand,  and  were  going  back.  A  particularly  jolly 
evening  was  in  prospect.  Somebody  had  sug 
gested  that  the  Hilles  bring  Shirley  back  with 
them,  just  for  the  evening.  They  felt  she  owed 
them  that  much,  after  so  resolutely  declining  the 
original  invitation  for  the  entire  week.  Would 
she  not  go  ?  It  was  a  rare  evening  for  early  No 
vember,  the  air  mild,  the  moon  magnificent,  the 
roads  like  a  floor. 

The  Hildreths  wanted  her  to  stay  the  night; 
but  Brant  would  rise  with  the  lark  and  bring 
her  back  to  town  before  breakfast,  that  she 
might  not  miss  so  much  as  a  semicolon  of  her 
day's  work.  Or  —  as  Shirley  continued  to  look 
doubtful  —  he  urged  that,  if  she  preferred,  he 
would  actually  get  her  back  to-night.  Some  of 
the  married  people  would  drive  in  with  them 
for  the  sake  of  the  run  in  the  moonlight.  Please! 

"Go,  Shirley,  and  have  a  fine  time,"  said  her 
brother. 

She  was  only  human  —  and  a  girl  —  after  all, 
and  after  many  weeks  of  close  and  serious  work 


254  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

the  prospect  of  the  little  spin  of  an  hour's  dura 
tion,  with  the  "jolly  evening,"  appealed  to  her. 
Smiling  at  Brant's  last  proposition,  Shirley  yielded. 

"I  shall  have  to  go  to  the  house  first,"  she 
said,  setting  the  cover  on  her  machine  and  putting 
away  her  work.  The  clock  already  indicated 
the  end  of  the  working-day  in  the  Townsend 
office. 

"Of  course.  We  '11  take  you  right  up  in  a 
jiffy."  And  Brant  led  the  way  to  the  elevator, 
his  soul  filled  with  satisfaction. 

The  green  car  was  shortly  chug-chugging  in 
front  of  the  Townsend  house,  while  Shirley  ran 
up  to  exchange  her  office  clothes  for  the  pretty 
dull  red  silk  frock  which  seemed  to  her  to  fit  the 
November  evening. 

A  sense  of  exhilaration  took  possession  of  her 
as  she  pulled  on  her  long  driving-coat,  and 
pinned  in  place  the  close  hat  and  swathing  gray 
veil  which  made  her  ready  for  the  swift  drive 
in  the  autumn  air.  To  be  really  a  working  girl, 
and  yet  not  to  be  shut  out  from  an  occasional 
taste  of  this  sort  of  pleasure  —  it  was  certainly 
a  pleasant  combination.  And  Shirley  had  accom 
plished  one  of  the  best  day's  works  that  she 
had  yet  done,  and  felt  as  if  she  had  earned 
whatever  of  jollity  the  evening  might  have  in 
store  for  her. 


IN  GAY  STREET.  255 

"Well,  I'm  certainly  thankful  to  see  you  act 
ing  like  one  of  us  again,  if  only  for  a  few  hours," 
asserted  "Marie  Anne,"  as  they  whirled  away. 
"  Shirley  Townsend  in  a  blue  serge  at  four  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon  is  an  extraordinary  sight.  Now 
you  look  like  yourself  again.  What  have  you 
got  on?  That  Indian-red  silk?  When  you  like  a 
thing  you  like  it  forever,  don't  you?  I  wonder 
how  many  times  you  came  down  to  dinner  last 
winter  at  Miss  Cockburn's  in  that  red  silk!" 

"Don't  be  brutal,  Marian!"  called  her  brother, 
over  his  shoulder.  "As  if  it  made  any  difference 
what  she  wears  as  long  as  she  comes  with  us! 
Besides,  I  haven't  seen  the  red  silk." 

But  Shirley  was  only  smiling  at  Marian's 
comments  on  her  attire.  She  had  not  summered 
and  wintered  Miss  Hille  as  a  room-mate  for  two 
years  in  the  English  school  not  to  have  become 
inured  to  her  style  of  intimate  criticism.  Be 
sides,  she  knew  perfectly  that  that  Indian-red 
silk  frock  had  been  her  friend's  envy  for  the  first 
six  weeks  of  its  existence,  on  account  of  its  beauty 
and  the  way  it  became  Shirley's  colouring. 

It  does  not  take  long  for  a  motor-car  of  high 
horse-power  driven  by  a  young  man  with  the 
usual  dash  of  daring  in  his  composition  to  cover 
eighteen  miles  of  smooth  roadway,  and  it  was 
not^yet  six  o'clock  when  the  car  shot  up  to  the 


ROUND  THE  CORNER 

entrance  of  the  Hildreth's  country  place.  Hal? 
a  dozen  young  people,  returning  from  the  golf 
links,  hurried  up  to  welcome  Shirley  Townsend 
back  to  the  ranks  of  the  pleasure-seekers,  and  she 
was  borne  into  the  house  on  a  little  wave  of  good- 
fellowship  and  merriment  which  she  could  not 
help  decidedly  enjoying. 

"  It 's  a  shame  to  think  of  that  girl  throwing 
herself  away  on  the  sort  of  fad  she  's  taken  up!" 
growled  Somers  Hildreth  to  Brant  Hille,  as  the 
two  came  in,  after  dressing  for  dinner,  to  find 
Shirley  Townsend  the  centre  of  a  gay  group 
before  the  great  fireplace,  which  was  the  heart 
of  the  country  house. 

"I  wonder  what  fault  Marian  had  to  find  with 
that  dress,"  Brant  was  thinking,  as  he  caught 
its  gleam  in  the  firelight  and  saw  the  sparkling 
eyes  and  warm-tinted  cheeks  above  it.  "If  she 
is  n't  by  long  odds  the  finest  girl  in  that  crowd 
I  '11  go  without  my  dinner."  But  aloud  he  re 
sponded,  calmly,  "It  does  n't  seem  to  have  dulled 
her  charms.  She  never  looked  more  as  if  she 
found  things  worth  while,  did  she  ?" 

"That 's  reaction,"  declared  the  other  young 
man.  "Shut  any  girl  up  in  a  cage,  and  she  'il 
stretch  her  wings  when  she  gets  out,  It  will 

o  o 

tell  on  her  after  a  while,  though,  if  she  keeps 
it  up.  But  she  won't.  That  goes  without  saying." 


IN  GAY  STREET  257 

"Don't  you  fool  yourself!"  muttered  Brant, 
adopting  Murray  Townsend's  view  of  the  matter. 

Shirley,  indeed,  did  not  look  like  a  girl  who 
was  accustomed  to  adopt  courses,  only  to  abandon 
them  when  weary.  Whatever  her  views  of  the 
"things  worth  while,"  she  certainly  enjoyed 
that  evening.  Those  who  had  sent  for  her 
congratulated  themselves  on  their  foresight. 

Without  making  herself  in  any  way  a  con 
spicuous  figure,  or  appearing  to  take  the  lead, 
Shirley's  very  presence  seemed  somehow  to  bring 
about  that  result  most  desirable  to  a  hostess, 
the  making  things  "go."  The  young  people 
had  been  together  for  five  successive  evenings, 
and  had  about  exhausted  their  resources  and 
those  of  their  entertainers  in  the  way  of  diversion. 
But  with  Shirley  Townsend's  softly  brilliant  eyes 
looking  on,  her  spirited  mouth  curving  into 
mischief  or  merriment,  her  appreciative  comments 
spurring  them,  the  young  men  of  the  party  at 
least  found  themselves  stimulated  to  their  best 
achievement,  and  exerted  themselves  to  bring 
the  response  of  her  pleasure. 

As  for  the  girls,  they  all  liked  her,  although 
not  without  here  and  there  a  touch  of  envy  at 
the  success  of  a  style  so  free  from  affectation 
that  nobody  could  accuse  its  possessor  of  not 
being  genum*" , 


ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"You  can't  say  you  're  not  having  a  good  time,** 
urged  Hille,  cornering  Shirley  as  the  evening 
went  on. 

"There  's  no  reason  why  I  should  want  to 
say  it.  I  'm  having  a  delightful  time." 

"  I  thought  it  was  part  of  your  code,  from  now 
on,  to  enjoy  nothing  but  hard  labour." 

Her  laugh  rang  out  softly. 

"You  did  n't  believe  anything  of  the  sort. 
If  all  work  and  no  play  make  Jack  a  dull  boy, 
what  would  they  do  to  Jill  ?  She  would  be 
unendurable." 

"She  would.  But  anybody  would  have  taken 
alarm  at  sight  of  you  to-day,  over  your  typewriter. 
You  looked  as  if  you  were  nothing  short  of  carried 
away  with  it.  You  did  n't  so  much  as  notice 
I  was  in  the  room." 

"I  'm  not  supposed  to  notice  people  who  come 
into  Murray's  office.  I  learned  that  at  once,  by 
watching  Miss  Henley.  While  I  'm  there  I  'm 
to  be  merely  an  intelligent  machine." 

"'Machine'"  doesn't  strike  me  as  exactly  the 
word  —  in  your  case.  As  for  the  'intelligence'  — • 
I  suppose  Townsend  &  Company  are  very  exact 
ing.  Do  you  suppose  they  'd  take  me  on  the 
force  ?" 

"You!"     It  seemed  to  amuse  her  very  much. 

Brant    looked    nettled.     He    had    asked    the 


IN  GAY  STREET  259 

question  in  sport,  but  he  did  not  like  to  be  taken 
that  way.  "Look  here,  am  I  such  a  joke  as 
that?" 

"The  notion  of  your  working  for  anybody, 
even  for  yourself,  is  very  interesting." 

"You  think  I  'm  not  capable  ?" 

"I  think  the  mere  thought  of  going  to  an  office 
every  morning  at  nine  o'clock  would  be  too  much 
for  you." 

"You  must  have  a  pretty  poor  opinion  of  me." 

"Not  at  all.  But  you  have  never  needed  to 
work,  never  expect  to  need  to  work,  and  have 
never  shown  the  first  sign  of  intending  to  work. 
Why  shouldn't  the  idea  of  your  working  seem 
strange  ?" 

"I  might  have  said  the  same  of  you  a  few 
months  ago."  Brant  was  getting  red. 

"  So  you  might.     But  I  'm  a  girl." 

"Does  my  being  a  man  —  I'm  twenty-four — • 
make  it  a  foregone  conclusion  that  I  should  roll 
up  my  sleeves  and  tackle  a  shovel  and  pick, 
whether  I  need  the  money  or  not  ?" 

Shirley  surveyed  him.  "No,  I  don't  think 
it  does  —  with  you," 

The  red  which  had  begun  to  show  above 
Brant's  collar  now  spread  toward  his  ears, 
extended  to  his  forehead,  and  finally  suffused 
his  entire  face.  He  broke  out  hotly:  "Look 


260  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

here,  you  used  not  to  be  sharp-tongued  like  that. 
If  your  taking  up  this  sort  of  thing  is  going  to 
make  you  not  mind  how  you  cut  your  friends, 
it  *s  my  opinion  you  'd  be  better  at  your 
embroidery." 

Shirley  bit  her  lip  with  a  mischievous  desire 
to  say  something  which  would  make  the  angry 
gleam  in  his  eyes  light  up  still  more  vividly.  She 
and  Brant  had  played  together  and  quarreled 
and  made  up  since  their  nursery  days,  and  this 
retort,  which  she  would  have  resented  from 
anybody  else,  merely  delighted  her  from  Brant. 

She  liked  to  wake  him  up,  and  considered  that 
hurting  his  feelings  on  the  score  of  his  idleness 
was  both  salutary  and  justifiable.  Ever  since 
she  had  returned  she  had  been  feeling  more  and 
more  annoyed  with  him  for  seeming  to  settle 
down  so  unconcernedly  to  a  life  of  absolute  ease 
and  the  spending  of  his  share  of  the  estate  left 
him  by  a  father  who  had  toiled  a  lifetime  to  get 
his  property  together. 

But  she  did  not  intend  to  be  led  into  a  serious 
argument  with  him  now  and  here,  nor  did  she 
wish  to  make  him  like  her  less  on  account  of 
her  new  method  of  employing  her  time.  She 
liked  him  for  many  good  points,  and  she  was 
rather  wiser  than  most  girls  in  perceiving  when 
she  had  said  enough.  So  after  an  instant's 


IN  GAY  STREET  261 

silence,  she  asked,  with  a  bright  glance,  disarming 
because  unexpected,  "Shall  we  call  it  even?" 

"  Did  my  shot  about  the  embroidery  hit  ?'* 
Brant  exulted. 

"Hard.  It  doesn't  matter  that  I  don't  know 
how  to  embroider." 

"Not  in  the  least.  Yes,  I  '11  call  it  even, 
though  I  got  the  worst  of  it.  I  was  mad  enough 
to  bite  something  a  minute  ago,  but  you  always 
did  have  a  way  of  making  a  chap  double  up  his 
fists,  and  then  open  them  again,  feeling  foolish. 
Oh,  here  comes  Mrs.  Hildreth.  You  don't  want 
to  go  back  to-night,  do  you  ?" 

"  I  '11  wait  till  morning.  But  we  must  be  off 
early.  I  would  n't  miss  being  on  time  for  a 
week's  salary." 

"Before  breakfast?" 

"Of  course  —  if  they'll  let  us.  We'll  have 
breakfast  at  home;  the  early  morning  run  will 
make  us  hungry." 

"It  certainly  will.  See  here,  we  don't  have 
to  get  anybody  up  to  go  in  with  us,  do  we  ?" 

Shirley  looked  doubtful.  "I  'm  afraid  we 
do." 

"Then  I  'd  rather  take  you  in  to-night,"  said 
Brant,  promptly.  "We  '11  fill  up  the  car  with 
chaperons,  and  you  can  sit  in  front  with  me. 
They  '11  be  tickled  to  go,  in  this  moonlight.  I  'II 


262  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

ask  Mrs.  Hildreth  and  Miss  Armitage;  they  '11 
discuss  dressmakers  all  the  way  in  and  leave 
us  in  peace." 

Shirley  let  him  arrange  it,  personally  much 
preferring  to  reach  home  that  night  and  get  up 
at  the  usual  hour  in  the  morning,  with  an  interval 
between  her  pleasure-making  and  her  work. 
The  hour  was  not  late,  and  Brant  professed  to 
be  able  to  make  incredibly  quick  time,  so  he  had 
no  difficulty  in  arranging  his  party. 

There  were  many  sallies  at  Shirley's  expense 
as  her  friends  saw  her  depart.  Her  devotion 
to  business  was  considered  a  caprice,  likely  at 
any  time  to  give  way  to  more  rational  behaviour^ 
and  she  was  assured  of  an  enthusiastic  welcome 
back  to  the  company  of  sane  beings  when  her 
"craze"  should  be  over.  She  went  away  smiling 
at  the  thought  of  how  little  they  understood  her, 
and  with  a  sense  of  having  at  hand  resources 
of  contentment  at  which  they  could  not  even 
guess. 

With  an  empty  road  ahead,  and  the  moonlight 
making  all  things  clear,  Brant  sent  his  car  hum 
ming.  In  the  rush  of  air  caused  by  their  flight, 
all  four  travellers  stopped  talking,  and  it  was 
upon  a  silence  hitherto  disturbed  only  by  the 
muffled  mechanism  of  the  car  that  the  startling 
bang  of  an  exploding  tire  woke  the  echoes. 


IN  GAY  STREET  263 

"Confound  the  luck!"  burst  from  the  young 
man  in  the  driver's  seat,  as  he  brought  the  machine 
to  a  standstill.  "That  means  stop  and  repair 
right  here.  We  can't  run  her  in  on  her  rim. 
We  're  not  half  way." 

Shirley  looked  about  her.  Ten  rods  away, 
its  big  barns  looming  against  the  sky,  its 
white  house  showing  clearly  in  the  moonlight,  lay 
the  farm  of  Mr.  Elihu  Bell,  the  grandfather  of 
her  friends.  Although  it  was  after  eleven  o'clock, 
there  were  lights  showing  in  windows  which 
she  knew  belonged  to  the  front  room  of  the  farm 
house. 

"Shall  you  need  help  ?"  she  asked,  as  Brant 
threw  open  the  box  which  held  his  repair  kit. 
"The  noise  has  brought  somebody  to  the  door 
over  there.  It 's  the  Bell  farm  —  my  sister 
Jane's  grandfather,  you  know." 

"  Is  it  ?  Then  we  '11  pull  over  there  into  the 
yard,  and  you  people  can  go  inside,  since  they 
seem  to  be  up.  It  may  take  me  quite  a  while 
to  get  out  of  this  scrape.  I  'm  not  much  of  a 
mechanic,  and  I  've  been  lucky  enough  not  to 
puncture  many  tires." 

He  got  in  again,  and  ran  the  car  slowly  over 
to  the  open  gate  of  the  Bell  place.  As  he  turned 
in,  the  two  figures  which  had  been  standing  in 
the  doorway  came  out  and  crossed  the  yard. 


264  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

Shirley  recognized  them  both,  one  tall  and 
slim,  with  the  slight  stoop  and  characteristic 
walk  of  age;  the  other  also  tall,  but  broad-shoul 
dered  and  erect.  She  wondered  what  Peter 
Bell  could  be  doing  out  here,  calling  on  his  grand 
father  at  this  late  hour,  and  then  remembered 
that  Peter's  time  was  so  full  by  day  that  he  must 
needs  make  his  visits  by  night.  She  thought  of 
the  mortgage  he  had  spoken  of,  and  surmised 
that  the  visit,  prolonged  past  the  hour  when 
farmhouses  are  usually  dark  and  silent,  was  on 
business. 

''Well,  well!"  called  the  kindly  voice  of  the 
old  man.  "Broke  down,  have  you?  Anything 
we  can  do  ?  Your  lights  are  brighter  than  any 
we  can  furnish  you." 

Peter  came  close.  "Will  the  ladies  come  into 
the  house  ?"  he  asked.  He  could  not  see  who 
they  were. 

Mrs.  Hildreth  and  Miss  Armitage  accepted 
the  offer,  for  the  November  air  wTas  not  so  mild 
as  it  had  been  during  the  day,  and  they  had 
no  great  confidence  in  Brant's  ability  to  repair 
his  own  machine. 

Peter  offered  a  helping  hand.  When  the  older 
ladies  were  out,  he  turned  to  the  girl  on  the  front 
seat.  She  sprang  down,  and  stood  still  before 
him.  She  had  pulled  her  gray  veil  closely  about 


IN  GAY  STREET  265 

her  face,  and  she  spoke  in  a  muffled  whisper: 
"Guess  who  I  am/* 

Peter  glanced  toward  Brant,  who  had  now 
come  around  into  the  glare  from  his  own  head 
lights.  Peter  knew  Brant,  as  anyone  must  who 
was  included  in  the  entertaining  done  in  the 
Townsend  house.  But  it  had  always  been  many 
leagues  farther  to  Gay  Street  from  the  Hille  home 
on  the  north  side  of  Worthington  Square  than 
from  that  of  Murray  and  Shirley  Townsend  on 
the  south  side. 

"I  'm  afraid  I  can't  guess,"  admitted  Peter, 
who  thought  he  knew  that  Shirley  was  at  home 
that  night,  having  noted  a  light  in  her  window 
when,  at  nine  o'clock,  he  had  mounted  his  bicycle 
to  make  the  trip  to  Grandfather  Bell's.  Her 
figure  in  the  long  coat  and  shrouding  veil  was 
not  familiar  to  him,  and  the  whisper  had  con 
veyed  no  note  of  Shirley's  real  tones. 

"Then  you  shall  never  know,"  the  sepulchral 
whisper  assured  him,  and  he  found  some  difficulty 
in  holding  his  hand  from  the  desire  forcibly  to 
remove  the  provoking  veil.  The  possibility  that 
it  was  his  sister  Jane  caused  him  to  estimate  sharply 
the  height  of  the  figure  before  him. 

It  was  a  little  too  tall  for  Jane,  and  Peter  was 
about  to  hazard  a  guess  that  it  was  one  of  the 
least  formidable  of  the  girls  of  Shirley's  set  whom 


266  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

he  occasionally  met  at  her  home,  when  Brant 
Hille  called  out,  annoyance  sounding  in  his 
voice  .c 

"You  M  better  go  in  with  the  others,  Shirley 
—  this  is  going  to  take  time.  I  Ve  got  to  put 
on  a  new  tire — worse  luck!" 

Peter's  ringers  grasped  the  veil  and  gently 
•pulled  it  aside  from  the  laughing  face  beneath. 
"No  wonder  you  wanted  to  hide!"  he  jeered, 
under  his  breath.  "A  working-girl  like  you, 
off  on  midnight  larks  like  this,  with  to-morrow 
ahead." 

But  there  was  a  distinct  hint  of  pleasure  in 
his  voice  at  the  discovery  of  her  here,  thrown 
upon  his  hospitality.  He  led  her  away  to  the 
house,  within  whose  open  door  the  other  ladies 
had  disappeared. 

"Grandmother  has  gone  to  bed  long  ago,"  he 
said,  as  they  came  up  on  the  porch,  "and  I  don't 
think  I  'II  disturb  her.  She  's  deaf  and  won't 
hear,  and  she  needs  her  sleep.  But  I  can  get 
you  all  something  hot  to  drink,  and  something 
to  eat,  too,  if  there  's  much  delay." 

Shirley  presented  him  to  Mrs.  Hildreth  and 
Miss  Armitage,  who  were  already  making  them- 
se'.ves  at  home  in  the  low-ceiled,  pleasant  living- 
room  which  lay  all  across  the  front  of  the  farm 
house.  A  dying  fire  reddened  the  hearth,  which 


IN  GAY  STREET  267 

Peter  soon  revived  into  a  blaze.  Then  he  went 
in  search  of  refreshments.  Thereafter,  returning 
to  the  scene  of  the  breakdown,  he  rendered  Brant 
valuable  assistance,  proving  handier  at  the  process 
of  replacing  the  injured  tire  than  Brant  himself. 
When  they  finally  had  done  the  work,  and  Brant 
pulled  out  his  watch  with  a  hand  black  with  dirt 
and  grease,  he  gave  an  exclamation  of  dismay. 

"One  A.  M.,  by  all  that 's  unfortunate!  Better 
let  me  take  you  back  to  Longacre,  Shirley,  and 
get  you  home  comfortably  in  the  morning.  What 
difference  does  it  make  if  you  do  miss  part  of  a 
day  ?" 

"  Leave  her  here,"  said  Mr.  Elihu  Bell.  "  We  '11 
take  care  of  her  to-night,  and  I  '11  drive  in  with 
her  in  the  morning,  bright  and  early.  That 's 
the  best  way  out,  and  you  people  can  go  back 
and  go  to  bed.  Grandma  '11  be  mightily  pleased 
to  wake  up  in  the  morning  and  find  the  little 
girl  here." 

Feeling  it  the  simplest  solution  of  a  situation 
which  was  involving  somebody's  sacrifice,  what 
ever  she  did,  Shirley  accepted  the  offer.  Brant 
Jid  not  feel  altogether  pleased  over  driving  away 
and  leaving  her  standing  on  the  porch  beside 
Peter,  but  he  was  decidedly  weary  with  his 
exercise,  and  sleepy  after  two  brimming  glasses  of 
milk,  and  he  resigned  his  charge  with  cne  nwr- 


268  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

mured  speeech:  "Shows  what  a  fool  thing  it  is 
for  a  girl  like  you  to  play  at  holding  down  a 
business  position.  You  can't  be  either  one  thing 
or  the  other  with  any  comfort,  and  it  even  gets 
your  friends  into  trouble." 

This  surly  farewell  was  punished  by  the  girl's 
gay  rejoinder: 

"I  suppose  it  was  the  weight  of  your  cares 
that  was  too  much  for  the  car!  I  'm  sorry,  and 
I  '11  promise  not  to  run  away  from  my  work 
again  —  with  you." 

When  the  car  was  off,  Peter  promptly  brought 
round  his  bicycle.  'This  is  n't  quite  so  imposing 
a  conveyance  as  Hille's  automobile,"  he  said, 
standing  at  the  foot  of  the  steps  and  looking  up 
at  Shirley,  "and  I  can't  invite  anybody  to  share 
it  with  me  and  ride  home.  But  it 's  very  con 
venient  for  these  little  runs  out  to  the  farm,  and 
I  'm  glad  I  happened  to  be  here  to-night.  Some 
how,  just  the  sight  of  you,  without  any  chance 
to  talk,  does  me  good." 

"If  that  is  true,  I  should  think  you  might  take 
advantage  of  living  so  near  just  a  bit  oftener 
than  you  do.  Do  you  know  how  long  it  is  since 
you  've  been  over  r" 

"  It  seems  six  months  to  me,"  said  Peter,  smiling. 

"It  is  six  weeks.  Are  you  so  busy  all  your 
evenings  ?" 


IN  GAY  STREET  269 

"Pretty  busy.  And  I  spend  what  little  spare 
time  I  can  make  with  father/' 

"Of  course,"  she  agreed,  gently.  "But  I 
think  you  need  a  little  more  change  of  scene 
than  you  get." 

"I  'd  like  it.  But  I  can't  be  bothering  a  girl 
like  you  with  entertaining  an  old  chap  like  me." 

"'An  old  chap!'"  mused  Shirley.  "Is  that 
the  way  you  feel  ?" 

"  I  was  feeling  forty,  at  least  —  till  the  tire 
blew  up.  Then  I  came  down  to  thirty.  When 
I  found  the  girl  under  the  veil,  I  dropped  off 
several  years  more.  But  when  I  looked  at  that 
boy  Hille  I  became  a  patriarch  again." 

"I  wish  he  could  hear  you  call  him  a  boy! 
Suppose  I  give  you  a  special  invitation,  and 
run  the  risk  of  your  bothering  me,  will  you  accept 
it?" 

"In  a  hurry!" 

"Your  first  spare  evening  then?" 

"You  tempt  me  to  cut  everything  and  come 
to-morrow  night.  No  —  I  '11  wait  a  decent  in 
terval,  to  let  you  get  caught  up  after  this  midnight 
dissipation.  May  I  come  early  r" 

"The  earlier  the  better." 

"And  you  won't  invite  anybody  else  to  help 
make  it  jolly  for  me  ?  The  last  time  I  ventured 
over  you  had  a  roomful." 


270  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"  I  '11  invite  nobody.  Come,  Peter  Bell  —  do 
you  know  I  'm  being  much  nicer  to  you  than  I 
ordinarily  am  to  anybody  ?  I  let  mother  and 
Olive  do  the  inviting,  and  I  just  look  demure, 
as  if  I  did  n't  care." 

"You  do  care,  then,  this  time? 

"  It 's  time  you  were  off,  is  n't  J*  ?"  and  she 
retreated,  laughing,  to  the  open  door. 

Peter  looked  back  at  her,  an  alluring  figure, 
with  the  lamplight  falling  over  the  dull  red  silk 
of  her  frock,  and  wished  he  need  not  go  at  all. 
But  Grandfather  Bell's  tall  form  appeared  just 
behind  Shirley's.  This  was  an  unheard-of  hour 
for  Grandfather  Bell.  So,  with  a  friendly  good 
night  and  a  warm  feeling  at  his  heart,  Peter 
bestrode  his  wheel  and  was  off  down  the  moonlit 
road  toward  home. 


CHAPTER  VII 

CHRISTMAS    GREENS 

JANE,  I've  the  most  charming  plan  in  my  head 
for  Christmas  week  you  ever  heard  of." 

"  Have  you,  Shirley  dear  ?  And  are  you 
going  to  tell  it  to  me  ?" 

"I  am,  indeed.  Listen.  Let's  take  cook 
and  Norah,  and  go  —  all  of  us,  your  houseful 
and  ours  —  and  spend  part  of  holiday  week  at 
Grasslands." 

"Shirley!  You  take  my  breath  away!  Could 
we  do  it  ?  Would  n't  it  be  fun  if  we  could  ?" 

"I  don't  see  a  thing  in  the  way.  When  I 
•stayed  overnight,  in  November,  your  Grand 
mother  Bell  said  she  wished  she  could  get  her 
family  together  once  more  at  Christmas  there, 
instead  of  going  in  to  have  dinner  in  Gay  Street, 
as  they  've  been  doing  since  your  family  went  to 
live  in  town.  She  said  she  'd  like  to  have  us 
all  if  she  were  younger  again,  but  she  has  no 
'help,'  and  thought  it  would  be  a  pity  to  ask 
us,  and  then  have  your  mother  and  Nan  do  the 
work.  I  Ve  thought  about  it  ever  so  many 

271 


272  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

times  since,  but  this  idea  has  only  just  popped 
into  my  head." 

"I  should  think  it  could  be  done,"  mused  Jane. 
"There  are  rooms  and  rooms  at  the  farm,  and 
little  open  wood-stoves  in  every  one.  You  and 
I  could  go  out  the  day  before,  and  get  everything 
aired  and  ready." 

"What  if  you  and  Mrs.  Bell  and  Nan  and  I 

went,  without  telling  any  of  the  men  ?     I  'm  to 

have  Christmas  week  for  my  first  vacation^  you 

know.     Then    when    they    came    home    in    the 

evening,  have  a  bouncing  big  sleigh  ready  to  carry 

them  off  to  the  farm,  and  a  jolly  supper  waiting  f 

Ifhen  a  tree  that  night,  and  Christmas  next  day, 

vith    coasting    and     skating    and     snowballing, 

if  the  weather  is  right  ?" 

"You  artful  child!"  exclaimed  Jane.  "It 
would  do  us  all  heaps  of  good  —  especially  father 
and  mother.  Father  looks  to  me  so  worn  and 
tired.  Have  you  noticed  it  ?" 

Shirley  nodded.  She  had  indeed  noticed  it, 
and  a  deep-laid  plot,  having  for  its  beneficiary 
Mr.  Joseph  Bell,  was  at  the  back  of  the  planning. 
But  she  did  not  intend  that  anybody  should  find 
that  out.  So  she  agreed  lightly  that  Jane's  father 
needed  a  holiday,  as  did  all  the  others. 

"  If  we  can't  get  any  of  them  to  take  more  than 
Christmas  day,  we  can  at  least  bring  them  out 


IN  GAY  STREET  273 

there  every  night  and  back  every  morning," 
she  said.  "We  '11  give  them  such  good  things 
to  eat  they  won't  mind  the  drive.  With  Grand 
father  Bell's  big  horses,  all  jingly  with  sleigh- 
bells,  they  certainly  won't.  Oh,  will  you  go 
and  speak  to  Cook  now  ?  I  simply  can't  wait 
to  get  things  under  way." 

"Do  you  mean  to  surprise  Grandmother  Bell, 
too  ?" 

"Yes,  if  your  grandfather  agrees,  as  I  'm  sure 
he  will.  If  we  told  her  she  'd  tire  herself  all  out, 
doing  wholly  unnecessary  things.  Everything 
in  the  house  is  always  in  apple-pie  order,  but 
she  would  n't  think  so." 

"You  're  quite  right,  I  think.  I  '11  go  and 
talk  with  Cook"-  — and  Jane  hurried  away,  looking 
as  girlishly  eager  as  Shirley  herself. 

She  had  small  doubt  of  Cook.  If  Mrs.  Murray 
Townsend  had  a  friend  in  the  house,  it  was  Bridget. 
Mrs.  Harrison  Townsend  had  never  considered 
Bridget  a  particularly  amiable  person,  but  Jane 
had  won  her  completely  by  treating  her  always 
with  consideration,  and  by  showing  the  interest 
in  her  affairs,  which  is  appreciated  most  by  those 
who  expect  it  least. 

"Sure,  then,  we  '11  go,  Mrs.  Murray,  and  take 
it  as  a  holiday,"  agreed  Cook,  when  her  young 
mistress  had  explained  her  plans.  "And  we  'li 


274  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

take  some  of  the  fixin's  with  us  they  '11  not  be 
havin'  at  the  farm." 

During  the  week  that  intervened  before  Christ 
mas,  Shirley's  head  was  so  full  of  her  schemes 
that  for  the  first  time  since  her  initiation  into 
office  work  she  had  considerable  difficulty  in 
keeping  her  mind  upon  her  tasks.  Christmas 
fell  upon  a  Tuesday  that  year,  fortunately  for 
her  plans,  so  after  Saturday  noon  she  was  free 
to  give  her  mind  to  the  pleasures  in  prospect. 
Mrs.  Bell  and  Nancy  had  agreed  enthusiastically 
to  every  detail  of  the  arrangements,  and  Grand 
father  Bell,  when  cautiously  consulted  over  the 
telephone  and  urged  to  keep  it  all  a  secret  from 
his  wife,  had  responded  as  joyously  as  a  boy  that 
the  party  might  occupy  every  nook  and  corner 
of  the  house  and  have  things  all  their  own  way, 
if  they  would  only  come. 

It  proved  necessary  to  let  somebody  into  the 
plan  at  the  last,  in  order  that  the  men,  returning 
to  their  homes  on  Monday  evening,  should  be 
directed  what  to  do.  Rufus  was  selected  for  this 
office,  an  appointment  which  tickled  him  so  that  it 
was  with  difficulty  he  kept  from  bursting  out  with 
his  secret.  At  night  he  was  first  at  home,  and  as 
the  others  one  by  one  arrived,  he  haled  them  to 
their  rooms,  bade  them  make  themselves  ready 
in  short  order,  and  surreptitiously  packed  away 


IN  GAY  STREET  275 

several  travelling  bags  in  the  recesses  of  Grand 
father  Bell's  capacious  market-wagon,  now  on 
runners  and  fitted  with  seats. 

"What  on  earth  does  it  all  mean?"  asked 
Murray,  taking  his  seat  in  the  sleigh  in  which 
the  energetic  Rufus  had  stowed  the  male  members 
of  his  own  family,  amidst  a  storm  of  questions 
and  surmises, accompanied  by  much  good  humoured 
raillery  at  his  own  quite  evident  excitement. 

"  It  means  that  you  're  kidnapped,  and  may 
never  see  home  again,"  responded  Rufus,  tucking 
a  hot  soapstone  under  his  father's  feet,  for  the 
night  was  sharp,  and  Shirley's  orders  imperative. 
"Warm,  daddy?  Want  an  extra  rug  over  you? 
I  Ve  enough  here  to  wrap  up  a  party  of  elephants." 

"I  'm  very  comfortable,"  Mr.  Bell  replied. 
His  shoulder  rested  against  Peter's,  and  Peter's 
arm  lay  along  the  low  back  of  the  seat  behind 
him.  Mr.  Bell  always  felt  a  comfortable  sense 
of  support  and  protection  when  Peter  was  near 
• —  and  Peter  generally  was  near  in  these  days. 
The  elder  man  well  understood  why,  and  appre 
ciated  the  devotion  which  showed  itself  in  acts 
rather  than  in  words. 

"  I  've  only  one  objection  to  make,"  declared 
Ross,  as  the  sleigh  moved  briskly  off,  driven  by 
Grandfather  Bell's  next  neighbour,  a  man  who 
did  odd  jobs  for  him  when  needed,  and  worked 


276  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

for  him  steadily  during  the  summers.  "I  'm 
hungry  as  a  bear,  and  don't  want  to  go  more  than 
fifty  miles  to  supper." 

"It  would  pay  you  to  go  a  hundred,  judging 
by  my  observations,"  asserted  Rufus,  from  among 
the  fur  robes  at  Ross's  feet.  "And  we  '11  be 
there  in  a  jiffy.  Don't  these  boys  go,  though  ? 
They  must  get  fed  plenty  of  oats." 

"They  certainly  do,"  agreed  the  driver. 
"  Elihu  Bell  is  n't  the  man  to  starve  his  horses, 
let  alone  humans." 

"That's  encouraging,"  and  Murray,  who  also 
boasted  a  vigorous  appetite,  fell  to  conjecturing, 
after  the  manner  of  hungry  man,  what  supper 
at  the  farm  would  be  like.  He  knew  nothing 
of  the  arrangements  that  had  been  made,  and 
felt  rather  doubtful  whether  anything  could  take 
the  place  of  the  dinner  of  Jane's  planning  he  had 
expected  to  find  at  home. 

The  ten  miles  were  covered  in  a  little  more 
than  an  hour,  for  the  sleighing  was  good,  and 
the  driver  anxious  to  show  what  his  horses  could 
do.  As  they  turned  in  at  the  gate  and  drew  up 
at  the  side  porch,  they  saw  that  the  old  house 
was  aglow  from  top  to  bottom  with  lights  in 
every  window.  At  the  jingle  of  their  bells  the 
door  flew  hospitably  open,  although  no  one  was  in 
sight,  and  only  the  roaring  fire  in  the  wide  fireplace 


IN  GAY  STREET  277 

opposite  the  door  seemed  on  hand  to  give  them 
a  welcome. 

"  It  looks  Christmas-sy  enough  in  there,  does  n't 
it  ?"  said  Ross,  catching  sight  of  holly  branches 
ind  ropes  of  ground-pine  adorning  the  chimney- 
piece,  and  holly  wreaths  tied  with  scarlet  rib 
bons  in  the  windows. 

"Well,  well!"  ejaculated  Mr.  Joseph  Bell, 
slowly,  as  Peter  gently  pushed  him  ahead  into 
the  room,  and  his  eyes  fell  upon  a  tree,  its  top 
touching  the  low  ceiling,  its  branches  twinkling 
with  candles  and  loaded  with  packages.  He  blinked 
with  astonishment,  and  sat  abruptly  down  in  the 
first  chair  that  offered,  looking  as  pleased  as  a  boy. 

"Where  are  they  all?"  and  Rufus,  putting 
his  hands  to  his  mouth,  gave  a  ringing  hail. 

"Merry  Christmas!"  responded  a  chorus  of 
gay  voices,  and  a  curtain  fell  aside.  Grand 
mother  Bell,  her  rosy  old  face  beaming,  advanced 
with  outstretched  hand,  her  husband  close  behind 
her.  In  the  background  appeared  Mrs.  Joseph 
Bell,  Jane,  Shirley  and  Nancy,  all  in  white  dresses, 
with  holly  berries  gleaming  in  their  hair. 

"This  is  the  best  surprise  ever  heard  of!'* 
cried  Peter,  stooping  to  kiss  Grandmother  Bell's 
soft,  wrinkled  cheek,  and  then  turning  to  wring 
his  grandfather's  hand.  "This  beats  Christmas 
in  town  all  to  nothing." 


278  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"It  is  jolly!"  and  Murray  saluted  the  old  lady 
in  his  turn,  for  he  was  a  favourite  with  her,  not 
only  because  he  was  Jane's  husband,  but  because, 
from  the  first,  he  had  taken  pains  to  be  very  good 
to  her.  He  smiled  at  Jane  as  he  stood  straight 
again,  thinking  she  had  never  looked  prettier 
than  she  did  to-night.  But  Murray  was  apt 
to  think  that,  wherever  he  first  caught  sight  of 
her  after  a  day's  absence. 

"I  Ve  been  trying  all  day,"  said  Ross,  as  he 
greeted  the  old  people,  "to  make  myself  realise 
this  was  Christmas  eve.  But  from  this  hour 
all  difficulty  leaves  me.  I  smell  Christmas  in 
the  air." 

"  It  *s  the  pumpkin  pies,  and  mince,  and 
doughnuts,  and  plum  pudding  you  smell,"  laughed 
Nancy. 

"The  greens  smell  sweet  and  Christmas-sy, 
too,"  said  Shirley.  "We  had  such  fun  gathering 
them  this  morning.  It  seemed  a  pity  to  do  it 
by  ourselves." 

"  If  I  'd  known  of  it,  I  should  have  blown  out 
through  the  factory  roof  and  landed  over  in 
grandfather's  woods!"  declared  Peter,  coming 
up  to  shake  hands.  "Woods  in  winter!  And 
«*>-morrow's  a  holiday!  Are  we  to  stay  ?  I 
thought  I  fell  over  a  grip  as  I  got  out  of  the 
sleigh." 


IN  GAY  STREET  279 

"Indeed  you  are  — for  four  days." 

"  Four  days !     I  only  wish  I  could ! " 

"You  can  —  evenings  and  nights  and  morn- 
ings." 

"  Do  you  mean  it  ?     Are  we  invited  ?" 

"We  are." 

"Who  thought  this  magnificent  scheme  up?*' 
demanded  Peter.  "Ah,  you 're  blushing!  I  might 
have- 

"I  've  been  out  in  the  cold  air  more  than  half 
the  day,"  and  Shirley  covered  one  brilliant  cheek 
with  her  hand.  "Are  n't  you  hungry  ?" 

"Famishing!" 

"We  're  to  have  supper  right  away.  Your 
grandmother  calls  it  supper,  and  Cook  calls  it 
dinner." 

"Cook!" 

"She's  here." 

"Well,  of  all  the " 

But  Peter  had  to  be  hurried  away  by  his  sister 
Nancy  to  his  room  —  his  old  room  upstairs 
under  the  eaves,  where  he  found  his  hand-bag 
awaiting  him,  and  a  brisk  fire  snapping  in  the 
old  box  stove.  For  the  time  being,  he  felt  he 
could  let  himself  forget  that  the  old  roof  was 
encumbered  by  a  heavy  mortgage,  due  in  six 
weeks  now,  and  held  by  a  man  who  had  long 
coveted  that  farm.  It  was  Christmas. 


28o  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

The  meal  spread  in  the  long,  low  dining-room, 
to  which  a  merry  company  presently  sat  down, 
was  a  delicious  one.  Grandmother  Bell's  old 
blue-and-white  Canton  plates  and  cups  had 
never  been  more  delectably  filled,  nor  had  her 
antique  silver  forks  and  spoons  clinked  to  a  livelier 
measure  than  the  talk  and  laughter  which  went 
round  as  the  supper  proceeded. 

"Does  it  seem  like  home  here?"  Shirley 
asked  Mr.  Joseph  Bell. 

"Home  ?"  said  he,  with  a  glance  from  the  old 
prints  upon  the  walls  to  the  antique  side  table 
below,  with  its  turned-up  leaf.  "  It 's  the  only 
place  in  the  world  that  will  ever  really  seem  like 
home  to  me.  It 's  just  a  makeshift,  living  in 
the  city,  to  people  who  were  brought  up  on  a 
place  like  this.  You  see,  though  I  went  away 
from  here  when  I  was  a  young  man,  and  lived 
a  long  time  in  the  city,  working  up  in  the  paper 
factory,  we  came  back  here  again  and  stayed 
five  years,  while  the  children  were  little,  on  account 
of  a  breakdown  in  my  health.  Then  when  I 
grew  strong  again,  we  moved  back  and  settled 
in  Gay  Street.  But  the  farm  is  home  —  always 
will  be.  My  wife  feels  the  same  way,  though 
she  was  a  city  girl.  She  'd  like  to  live  here  now 
as  much  as  ever." 

"  I  don't  wonder.     It 's  one  of  the  pleasantest 


IN  GAY  STREET  281 

farm-houses  I  ever  saw."  And  Shirley  smiled 
across  the  table  at  Peter  as  she  spoke,  meeting 
his  eyes  as  he  glanced  from  his  father's  face  to 
hers,  well  pleased  to  see  the  elder  man  looking 
as  if  heartily  enjoying  himself. 

"The   tree    is   only   to   look   at   this   evening,' 
announced    Jane,   when   they   were    all   back   in 
the   living-room.     "Nothing   is   to   be   taken   off 
it  till  to-morrow  evening." 

"And  we're  to  be  tantalised  all  that  while? 
I  'm  willing  to  see  it  shorn  of  its  fruit  any  time 
after  I  've  made  a  quick  trip  to  town  —  which 
will  be  the  first  thing  to-morrow  morning,"  said 
Murray,  with  a  meaning  wink  at  Peter,  who 
nodded,  comprehending. 

Rufus  grinned  at  his  father,  and  a  general 
spirit  of  understanding  appeared  to  prevail  among 
the  guests,  who  had  been  brought  away  to  the 
party  without  a  chance  to  get  together  the  parcels 
they  had  stowed  in  sundry  secret  places. 

"  We  're  glad  you  *re  so  clever  at  seeing  our 
reasons  for  delay,"  said  Nancy,  gazing  up  into 
the  thick  branches  of  the  tree,  her  eye  upon 
various  packages  of  her  own,  all  tied  in  the 
same  way,  so  that  they  were  easily  recognisable. 
She  had  worked  for  months  over  her  gifts,  having 
little  money  to  spend,  but  possessing  much  love 
and  ten  skilful  fingers. 


282  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"Meanwhile  we  must  have  something  doing 
this  evening,"  said  Rufus.  "What  shall  it  be?" 

"How  will  making  candy  suit  your  zest  for 
sport  ?"  asked  Jane. 

"Bully!  We  haven't  made  candy  since  we 
grew  up  —  not  real  candy.  I  don't  count  Nan's 
caramels  and  Shirley's  fudge.  Let 's  make  some 
real  old-fashioned  molasses  candy,  and  pull 
it!" 

"  What  else,  at  the  old  farm  ?  As  soon  as  the 
kitchen  is  clear  we  '11  go  out,"  and  Jane  disap 
peared,  to  hasten  operations  in  the  kitchen  by 
tying  on  an  apron  and  wiping  dishes  herself 
with  Norah.  Her  blithe  talk,  while  her  fingers 
flew,  kept  both  Cook  and  Norah  smiling  while 
they  worked,  and  the  big  farm-house  kitchen 
was  soon  in  spotless  order. 

"  It  does  be  after  doin'  me  good  to  work  in  a 
place  like  this  again,"  declared  Cook,  as  she  helped 
Jane  measure  out  molasses  and  get  the  big  kettle 
on.  "It 's  not  that  I  don't  like  the  tiles  and  the 
copper  and  all  the  conveniences  of  my  kitchen 
in  the  city.  But  when  a  person  has  been  brought 
up  in  the  country,  there  's  always  the  fondness 
clingin'  to  them  for  the  old  ways,  even  if  they  're 
a  bit  inconvenient.  See  the  gourd  dipper,  now, 
Norah.  Will  you  say  that  water  does  n't  taste 
better  out  of  it  than  from  granite  ware  ?" 


IN  GAY  STREET  283 

"I  never  saw  a  dipper  like  this  before,"  an 
swered  Norah,  who  had  been  born  in  town,  and 
could  hardly  share  Cook's  enthusiasm  for  these 
details  of  country  living. 

"She  knows  what  I  mean,"  said  Cook,  with 
a  nod  of  the  head  after  her  young  mistress,  jusf 
departing.  "  Sure,  I  have  n't  seen  such  a  sparkle 
in  the  eyes  of  her  since  she  came  to  live  at  the  house. 
She  's  not  born  to  be  a  great  lady,  just  a  home- 
keeping  one.  And  that 's  the  best  sort,  to  my 
mind." 

Then  she  beckoned  Norah  away,  and  they 
fled  up  the  back  stairs,  just  as  the  sounds  of 
approaching  feet  warned  them  that  the  company 
irere  coming. 

M Jolly!  This  is  the  stuff!"  exulted  Rufus, 
bursting  first  into  the  kitchen.  "Doesn't  that 
smell  like  the  real  thing  ?  Tie  an  apron  on  me 
and  let  me  take  charge  of  the  kettle.  The  rest 
of  you  can  grease  tins.  I  '11  offer  a  prize  for 
the  whitest  candy.  Secure  your  partners  for 
the  pulling!" 

"May  I  have  the  honour?"  and  Peter  made 
his  best  bow  to  Shirley  as  she  appeared  from  the 
pantry,  her  hands  full  of  shining  tins. 

"  Of  course  you  may,  if  you  '11  show  me  how. 
I  never  pulled  candy  in  my  life." 

"Your  education  has  been  appallingly  insuffi- 


284.  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

cient,  in  spite  of  those  two  years  in  England. 
But  I  used  to  be  pretty  good  at  it,  and  we  '11  take 
the  prize  if  you  follow  directions.  Please  begin 
by  taking  off  those  rings!"  commanded  Peter. 

Shirley  obediently  slipped  off  several  pretty 
rings.  Then  she  tied  on  a  small  and  frivolous 
apron,  at  which  Peter  frowned. 

"  Do  you  call  that  absurdity  of  lace  and  ribbons 
an  apron?"  he  demanded.  "What  do  you  sup 
pose  will  happen  to  it  if  you  drop  a  hunk  of  candy 
in  the  sticky  stage  on  it  ?  Here,  I  '11  get  you 
one  of  grandma's  -  -  they  're  worth  something." 
Shirley  presently  found  herself  invested  in  a 
bountifully  made  apron  of  checked  white  material, 
with  a  bib  and  strings,  which  nearly  covered  her 
from  sight.  "Now  you're  safe  —  and  so  is 
the  candy.  The  minute  it 's  fairly  cool,  we  '11  seize 
a  generous  portion  and  get  away  to  some  cool 
spot  with  it." 

It  was  some  time  before  this  stage  in  the  opera 
tions  was  reached,  and  meanwhile  Peter  found 
himself  obliged  to  share  his  partner  with  Ross 
and  Rufus,  who  had  no  idea  of  allowing  monopo 
lies,  with  no  other  girls  present  but  Nancy. 

The  elder  people,  however,  proved  themselves 
nearly  as  good  company  as  the  younger  ones, 
for  everybody  seemed  to  have  adopted  the  spirit 
of  the  season  and  to  be  ready  for  as  much  fun- 


IN  GAY  STREET  285 

making  as  possible.  And  to  the  great  satisfaction 
of  both  Peter  and  Shirley,  not  the  least  care-free 
of  the  company  seemed  Mr.  Joseph  Bell  himself. 

To  Peter,  especially,  watching  his  father  with 
an  eye  which  took  note,  as  the  others  could  not, 
the  very  evident  relaxation  and  refreshment  of 
the  occasion  were  a  source  of  deep  satisfaction. 
For  once  the  son  felt  that  he  could  himself  relax  and 
dare  to  get  out  of  the  hour  all  the  joy  there  was  in  it. 
Happiness  of  this  sort  could  not  hurt,  he  was 
sure.  It  could  only  help. 

"Our  panful  is  cool  enough!"  declared  Peter, 
flourishing  the  blue-and-white-checked  gingham 
apron  which  veiled  his  long  legs,  as  he  returned 
from  the  porch,  where  the  candy  had  been  cooling. 
"Now,  partner,  hands  buttered,  courage  good  ? 
Stand  ready  to  take  hold  when  I  say  the  word. 
I  '11  work  the  lump  into  malleable  condition. 
Open  the  door  into  the  wood-shed,  please.  We  '11 
do  our  pulling  there,  if  it 's  not  too  cool  for  you; 
then  we  '11  not  get  stuck." 

"Oob-b-h!"  Shirley  gave  a  little  shriek  as 
Peter  presently,  with  a  deft  pull  of  his  big  lump 
into  a  long,  smooth  skein,  handed  her  one  end 
with  the  injunction  to  draw  it  out  quickly  and 
swing  it  back  to  him.  "But  it 's  hot!" 

"Of  course  it  is,  Miss  Tender-Fingers!  If 
we  let  it  get  comfortably  cool  we  could  n't  pull 


286  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

it  at  all.  Keep  hold  —  keep  it  moving.  Don 't 
let  it  stay  in  your  fingers  long  enough  to  stick. 
Pull  —  swing — pull  —  swing!  Hold  on!  You're 
getting  stuck!  Wait  a  minute!" 

"I  can't  do  anything  but  wait!"  gasped  Shirley, 
holding  up  ten  fingers  hopelessly  embedded  in 
a  mass  of  uncomfortably  warm  material. 

"What!  Can  this  be  the  expert  stenographer, 
all  balled  up  in  a  couple  of  quarts  of  molasses  ? 
Hold  still!  Don't  try  to  work  out.  I  '11  pull 
you  loose.  Don't  let  the  others  see.  Keep 
away  from  that  kitchen  door!"! 

But  Rufus,  pulling  smoothly  away  from  Jane, 
with  the  art  acquired  by  much  practice  in  past 
years,  spied  out  the  tangled  ones.  His  shout 
of  laughter  brought  all  the  others  toward  the 
wood-shed  door. 

Shirley  and  Peter  were  obliged  to  return  to 
the  kitchen  to  obtain  butter  for  the  stuck-up 
fingers.  They  fell  into  a  state  of  great  merri 
ment  over  the  situation,  in  which  everybody 
else  joined  appreciatively,  and  the  old  kitchen 
rafters  rang  with  the  laughter. 

"  Where  would  the  stage  apron  be  now  ?  This 
is  no  gallery  play!"  jeered  Peter,  rescuing  one 
long  string  of  brownish-yellow  sweetness  from 
the  front  of  Shirley's  big  white  apron.  "Want 
a  taste  ?  Shut  your  eyes  and  open  your  mouth!'" 


IN  GAY   STREET  287 

"No,  thank  you.     Eat    it    yourself." 

"I  will,"  and  Peter  tipped  back  his  head. 

At  this  interesting  moment  the  door  between 
dining-room  and  kitchen  swung  open.  A  figure 
appeared  upon  the  threshold  —  a  figure  clad  in 
silk  and  furs,  topped  by  a  Parisian  bonnet. 
Over  its  shoulder  showed  the  heads  of  two  others 
• —  one  wearing  a  wonderful  hat  covered  with 
fine  black  ostrich-plumes,  the  other  its  own  thin 
thatch  of  short,  iron-gray  hair. 

"We  have  found  you  at  last!"  said  the  voice 
of  Mrs.  Harrison  Townsend. 

Behind  her,  Olive  burst  into  a  musical  peal 
of  laughter. 

"Look  at  Shirley,  mother!  Don't  you  think 
it  *s  about  time  we  came  home  to  prevent  her 
quite  returning  to  childhood  ?" 

Then  Mr.  Harrison  Townsend,  from  the  back 
ground: — "This  is  rather  stealing  a  march  on 
you,  good  friends.  But  we  fouad  our  own 
house  dark  —  and  this  is  Christmas  eve!" 


CHAPTER  VIII 

PETER   READS    RHYMES 

STAY?  Of  course  you'll  stay!"  declared 
Grandfather  Bell  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Town- 
send.  "It'll  do  you  good  after  all  your  jun 
keting,  and  we'll  be  mightily  pleased  to  have  you." 

It  had  not  taken  much  persuasion.  There 
certainly  was  a  charm  pervading  the  old  farm 
house,  and  the  thought  of  resting  quietly  there 
for  a  few  days  appealed  to  Mrs.  Townsend. 
Her  husband  was  delighted  at  the  plan,  for  he  had 
been  persuaded  to  join  his  wife  abroad,  and  sev 
eral  months  of  European  travel  had  wearied 
him.  Everything  simple  and  homelike  attracted 
him  now  more  than  ever.  It  had  been  his  rest 
lessness  which  had  brought  his  party  home  a 
month  before  the  date  originally  set  for  their 
return. 

If  there  had  been  a  goodly  number  of  packages 
upon  the  Christmas  tree  on  Christmas  eve, 
there  were  more  than  double  that  number  by 
the  evening  of  Christmas  day.  Not  only  had 
Murray  and  Peter  made  an  excursion  to  town, 

-S3 


IN  GAY  STREET  289 

but  Mrs.  Townsend,  mindful  of  many  intended 
gifts  stored  away  in  her  trunks,  had  sent  Olive 
in  with  the  others  to  get  them. 

When  the  Christmas  dinner  was  over,  Rufus 
proposed  that  the  clan  go  out  for  an  hour's  skating 
on  a  pond  not  far  away.  "We  can  enjoy  that 
tree  a  lot  better  if  we  have  some  good  brisk 
exercise  beforehand,"  he  asserted. 

"I  don't  skate,"  said  Olive,  looking  as  if  she 
wished  she  did. 

"Come  along  with  us  just  the  same,"  urged 
Ross,  "and  we  '11  take  turns,  not  exactly  'sitting 
out'  with  you,  but  walking  up  and  down  the 
shore.  Or  —  we  '11  teach  you." 

Olive  declined  to  be  taught,  but  agreed  to 
accompany  the  others.  Promenading  along  the 
bank,  fur-wrapped,  her  dark  beauty  made  brilliant 
by  the  frosty  air  which  nipped  her  cheeks,  she 
was  a  figure  to  compel  attention.  She  had  never 
seemed  more  companionable  than  now,  and  both 
Ross  and  Rufus  enjoyed,  with  more  zest  than 
they  had  anticipated,  the  period  allotted  to  them 
for  bearing  her  company.  Murray,  observing 
her  with  brotherly  penetration,  found  her  deci 
dedly  improved,  and  wondered  what  had  happened 
during  the  months  of  her  absence  to  make  her 
so  much  more  appreciative  of  her  family's  society 
than  she  had  been  wont  to  be. 


290  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

When  Peter,  in  his  turn,  came  to  offer  himself 
as  partner  in  her  exile  from  the  gaieties  going 
on  upon  the  ice,  she  greeted  him  with  a  smile 
so  radiant  that  he  looked  at  her  in  wonder.  The 
old  friendship  between  the  two,  begun  in  the 
earlier  days  of  their  acquaintance,  and  carried 
on  through  several  years,  while  they  grew  from 
boy  and  girl  to  man  and  woman,  had  waned 
and  nearly  died  of  neglect  on  both  sides  during 
the  past  two  years.  Each  had  become  absorbed 
in  pursuits  so  different  that  they  had  little  in 
common,  and  Olive,  especially,  had  seemed  to 
outgrow  the  traits  of  frankness  and  friendliness 
which  had  made  Peter  like  her  in  spite  of  many 
obvious  faults.  Before  she  went  away,  he  had 
come  to  think  of  her  as  hopelessly  spoiled  and 
artificial.  But  now  —  had  something  changed 
her  point  of  view  ? 

"A  few  years  ago,"  said  Olive,  as  the  two 
paced  up  and  down,  exchanging  comments  on 
the  occurrences  of  the  past  months,  "  I  was  in  a 
hurry  to  be  grown  up.  When  I  look  at  Jane 
and  Shirley  and  Nancy,  after  having  been  away 
from  them  for  six  months,  I  realise  that  their 
genius  for  remaining  girls  is  going  to  be  an 
advantage.  What  a  trio  they  are!  Shouldn't 
you  say  they  were  ail  three  about  sixteen  ?" 

The    three    had  just  joined  hands  and  skated 


IN  GAY   STREET  291 

s*way  from  Murray,  Ross,  and  Rufus,  who  had 
promptly  started  in  pursuit.  All  three  wore 
skirts  of  ankle  length,  short  jackets  and  close 
little  caps,  and  none  had  considered  furs  a  neces 
sary  article  of  apparel  for  lively  exercise.  A  blue 
silk  scarf  about  Jane's  throat  and  a  scarlet  one 
floating  to  the  breeze  from  Shirley's  furnished 
notes  of  colour  to  the  agile,  dark-clad  figures, 
and  three  health-tinted,  winsome  faces  looked  up 
at  the  two  on  the  bank  with  a  gay  greeting  as  the 
trio  swung  lightly  by. 

"I  certainly  should,"  agreed  Peter.  "I  don't 
think  Jane  will  ever  grow  old.  Nan  is  an  infant, 
and  will  be  for  ten  years  yet,  as  far  as  settling 
down  to  consider  herself  too  old  for  pranks  like 
that,  and  I  'm  glad  of  it.  As  for  your  sister 
Shirley " 

"Tell  me  what  you  think  of  Shirley.  The 
child  is  a  continual  puzzle  to  me;  I  can't  make 
her  out.  This  idea  of  working  steadily  at  earning 
a  salary  in  the  ofHce  seems  to  be  a  fixed  one, 
though  I  had  supposed  it  only  a  freak.  Does 
she  look  as  contented  as  this  all  the  time,  or  is  it 
just  the  relaxation  of  the  holiday  ?" 

"I  should  say  it  was  a  permanent  condition 
of  mind.  She  's  more  interested  to-day  in  her 
work  than  when  she  began,  and  is  growing 
surprisingly  expert.  Murray  told  me  yesterday 


292 


ROUND  THE  CORNER 


she  wants  to  tackle  the  special  foreign  correspond 
ence  —  French,  you  know.  That  means  a  lot  of 
extra  labour." 

Peter  spoke  as  if  he  felt  a  personal  pride  in 
Shirley's  achievements,  an  attitude  which  Shirley's 
sister  was  quick  to  note. 

"  I  felt  out  of  patience  with  you  when  she  began, 
for  I  thought  her  zeal  for  making  a  working- 
girl  of  herself  might  be  of  your  inspiring,"  said 
Olive,  with  a  quick  look  at  him. 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.  I  never  heard  of  it  till  she 
had  been  a  week  at  her  first  studies.  How  should 
I  have  dared  suggest  such  a  course  ?" 

"You  and  she  seem  to  be  great  friends." 

"Do  we?  It  is  an  honour  I  appreciate  very 
much,"  answered  Peter,  with  a  little  touch  of 
courtliness  in  his  manner  such  as  had  often  sur 
prised  her  in  the  early  days  of  their  acquaintance, 
and  which  struck  her  now  as  decidedly  interesting 
in  a  young  man  wrho  spent  his  days  in  a  factory, 
even  if  he  was  many  degrees  higher  in  position 
in  that  factory  than  when  she  had  first  known 
him.  What  his  position  was  at  present  she  did 
not  guess,  nor  did  she  know  that  Murray  had 
begun  to  look  at  him  as  a  man  to  be  desired  in 
his  own  business,  a  man  whose  brain  was  undoubt 
edly  to  make  him  an  important  factor  wherever 
be  might  be. 


IN  GAY  STREET  293 

What  she  did  recognise  was  that  she  had  met 
few  men  anywhere  who  had  the  power  to  com 
mand  her  interest  as  Peter  had  always  done, 
and  seemed  now  more  capable  of  doing  than 
ever  before.  As  for  his  looks  —  she  owned  to 
herself  that  she  had  never  before  realised  quite 
how  fine  and  resolute  and  altogether  manly  was 
his  whole  personality. 

"Speaking  of  contentment,"  said  Peter,  break 
ing  the  little  silence  which  had  followed  upon 
his  last  words,  "  don't  you  think  it  follows  rather 
naturally  upon  feeling  that  you  are  accomplishing 
something  worth  the  doing  ?  It  does  n't  make 
so  much  difference  what  it  is;  the  point  is,  that 
you  're  doing  it.  If  it  costs  effort,  so  much  the 
better." 

"  It  depends  on  what  you  think  is  worth  the 
doing,"  said  Olive.  "You  and  I  would  be  apt 
to  differ  on  that  —  as  Shirley  and  I  do." 

"Not  much  question  of  that,"  admitted  Peter, 
smiling.  He  gave  her  one  of  his  clear-sighted 
glances,  under  which  she  shrank  a  little  though 
she  did  not  show  it.  It  made  her  say,  rather 
defiantly: 

"Of  course  you  think,  as  you  always  did, 
that  I  'm  the  most  useless  creature  living,  and 
that  my  ideals  are  about  as  insignificant  as  the 
amount  of  actual  work  I  do." 


294  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

Their  eyes  met,  hers  black  and  sparkling, 
his  gray  and  steady  and  cool.  He  studied  her 
for  an  instant,  with  a  quality  in  his  intent  scrutiny 
before  which  her  eyes  went  down.  She  was  used 
to  admiration  in  men's  observation  of  her,  and 
though  that  element  could  hardly  be  lacking 
in  Peter's,  since  he  was  human,  and  she  a  more 
than  ordinarily  charming  young  woman,  there 
was  also  in  his  regard  that  appearance  of  taking 
her  measure,  which,  quite  unconsciously,  he 
could  never  help  exercising  when  brought  into 
contact  with  men  or  women.  Bu,  his  words, 
when  they  came,  were  gentle. 

"If  you  don't  mind  my  saying  so,  I  think 
you  're  capable  of  things  so  well  worth  while 
that  your  life  might  be  a  wonderful  thing  to  you. 
You  could,  if  you  cared  to,  do  what  you  pleased 
with  almost  anybody.  You  have  the  art,  the 
magnetism  —  whatever  it  may  be  —  of  the  born 
leader.  The  only  trouble  is  —  you  don't  much 
mind  —  do  you  ? —  which  way  you  lead." 

This  from  Peter  Bell!  For  a  minute  Olive 
was  left  speechless.  Yet  it  was  impossible  to 
resent  his  frank  putting  of  the  case,  for  it  conveyed 
something  which  gave  her  a  distinct  pleasure. 

"  I  'm  not  sure  whether  I  ought  to  be  angry 
with  you  or  not,"  she  said,  after  a  minute. 

"Please  don't  be." 


IN  GAY  STREET  295 

"When  did  you  take  up  the  profession  of 
preacher  ?" 

"  To  the  queen  ?"  suggested  Peter,  with  an 
odd  smile.  "But  you  're  at  liberty  to  order  my 
head  off  at  any  minute,  you  know.  Or  to  preach 
back  —  which  would  be  worse." 

In  spite  of  this  passage-at-arms,  they  were 
both  laughing  when  the  others  came  up  with  the 
announcement  that  it  was  time  to  go  back  to  the 
house.  But  Peter's  keen  speech  sank  in;  Olive 
did  not  forget  it  soon.  And  somehow,  she  was 
more  than  ever  sure  that  Peter  himself  was  well 
worth  cultivating. 

"I  never  was  so  excited  over  a  Christmas 
tree  as  over  this  one,"  confided  Nancy  to  Shirley, 
as  the  two  dressed  for  the  evening.  The  Christ 
mas  dinner  had  taken  place,  after  the  country 
fashion,  in  the  middle  of  the  afternoon.  It  was 
now  six  o'clock,  and  the  evening  was  before 
them.  No  supper  was  in  order,  after  the  tremen 
dous  banquet  at  three  o'clock;  but  Jane  had 
provided  certain  light  refreshments  of  the  deco 
rative  sort;  salad  and  sandwiches,  gay-coloured 
ices  and  bonbons,  cakes  and  a  great  bowl  of 
fruit  punch,  all  of  which  waited  in  a  cool  spot 
ready  for  the  serving  by  the  young  people  them 
selves.  Cook  and  Norah  had  been  sent  into  town, 
(or  a  celebration  of  their  own  with  friends. 


2Q6  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"Oh,  oh!  What  a  pretty  frock!"  cried  Nancy, 
as  her  friend  shook  out  a  soft  silken  fabric  of  pale 
gray,  lighted  up  here  and  there  with  small  sprigs 
of  scarlet  flowers,  with  belt  and  long  streamers 
of  scarlet  velvet  to  match. 

"  Do  you  like  it  ?  It 's  my  one  French  gown, 
and  an  inexpensive  one,  too,  but  it  looks  festal, 
and  I  thought  I  'd  christen  it  to-night.  Will 
you  wear  the  one  I  have  for  you  ?  I  meant  te 
put  it  on  the  tree,  but  it  occurred  to  me  you 
might  like  to  wear  it  and  keep  me  company," 
and  Shirley  pulled  a  long  box  from  under  the 
valance  of  the  high  "four-poster"  bed. 

"You  are  the  dearest  thing  that  ever  lived!*' 
cried  Nancy,  going  down  OP  her  knees  before 
the  box,  and  lifting  out  the  frock  of  pale  blue 
veiling,  with  its  trimmings  of  flowered  ribbon, 
a  girlish  creation  of  the  sort  to  please  young  eyes. 

It  was  a  very  happy  pair  of  maids  who  de» 
scended  the  staircase  together.  They  were  happy, 
however,  in  two  quite  different  ways.  Nancy's 
cup  was  overflowing  in  the  delight  of  her  pretty 
finery;  but  it  was  a  joy  of  another  sort  which 
made  Shirley's  heart  beat  high.  Under  the  folds 
of  gray  with  the  scarlet  flowers  a  small  envelope 
lay  hidden,  over  the  contents  of  which  the  girl 
had  spent  an  anxious  hour. 

There  has  not  been  room  to  tell  of  it  in  this 


IN   GAY  STREET  297 

brief  chronicle,  but  for  the  last  month  Shirley 
had  been  having  consultations  with  Murray 
over  an  important  subject  —  the  matter  of  an 
investment  she  wished  to  make.  She  owned 
not  a  small  amount  of  property,  in  stocks  and 
bonds,  an  inheritance  from  her  grandfather,  the 
management  of  which  had  been  put  into  her 
hands  by  her  father  as  a  matter  of  education. 
Within  a  few  weeks  a  chance  for  profitable  invest 
ment  of  a  portion  of  this  holding  had  appealed  to  her, 
and  after  a  spirited  argument  with  her  brother, 
she  had  received  his  sanction  in  the  course  she 
was  eager  to  adopt. 

The  legal  part  of  the  transaction  had  been 
completed  two  days  before  Christmas,  and  since 
then  Shirley  had  been  greatly  occupied  in.  spare 
moments  with  the  composition  of  something 
which  might  seem  to  have  small  connection  with 
so  prosaic  a  subject  as  the  transfer  of  certain 
legal  documents  from  one  pair  of  hands  to  another. 
She  was  not  yet  satisfied  with  the  result  of  her 
endeavours,  being  no  poet,  but  the  best  burlesque 
production  of  which  she  had  been  capable  had 
been  carefully  copied  on  her  typewriter,  and 
was  now  reposing  where  its  presence  considerably 
quickened  the  heart-beats  under  the  scarlet 
flowers. 

At  a  moment  when  she  was  alone  in  the  room 


298  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

Shirley  slipped  round  behind  the  tree,  and 
extracting  the  envelope  from  its  agitating  posi 
tion,  quickly,  although  with  fingers  which  mixed 
themselves  up  a  little,  tied  it  in  an  obscure  place 
beneath  a  bough,  where  a  gay  golden  ball 
nearly  hid  it  from  view. 

"Come  out!  Come  out!"  commanded  Rufus, 
as,  arriving  upon  the  scene,  he  spied  her.  "Abso 
lutely  not  a  feather's  weight  more  allowed  on 
that  tree.  There  never  was  a  tree  so  bowed 
down  with  care  as  that  one.  Nor  another  small 
boy  so  impatient  to  begin  as  this  one.  I  caught 
sight  of  my  name  on  that  package  six  feet  long 
under  there,  and  I  've  been  delirious  with  suspense 
ever  since.'7 

"As  soon  as  Santa  Claus  arrives,"  promised 
Jane,  who  had  agreed  with  Shirley  that  no 
accompaniment  of  the  traditional  Christmas  should 
be  lacking,  although  there  were  no  small  children 
present  to  be  edified  by  the  sight  of  the  patron 
saint.  Older  people,  as  she  well  knew,  fre 
quently  enjoy  a  return  to  childish  means  of  enter 
tainment,  and  when  Santa  Claus,  in  full  rig. 
Walked  into  the  room,  she  was  not  surprised 
to  see  the  looks  of  greatest  pleasure  upon  the 
faces  of  Grandfather  and  Grandmother  Bell. 

Peter  made  a  capital  Santa  Claus,  treating 
them  all  as  children,  and  making  speeches  as  he 


IN  GAY  STREET  299 

presented  the  gifts  which  brought  forth  peals 
of  merriment.  The  gifts  themselves  were  many 
and  varied,  from  the  mittens  knit  by  Grand 
mother  Bell's  skilful  fingers,  to  the  silken  scarfs 
and  fans  and  foreign  photographs  which  were 
the  contributions  of  the  travelled  Townsends. 

"Skees!"  cried  Rufus,  going  into  contortions 
of  ecstasy  over  Murray's  present,  and  clumping 
up  and  down  the  room  on  the  unwieldy  articles. 
"Won't  I  get  out  to-morrow  night  on  that  hill 
back  of  the  pond!" 

"Such  beautiful  lace  I  never  saw,"  said  Mrs. 
Joseph  Bell  to  Mrs.  Townsend,  her  fingers 
caressing  the  exquisite  tracery  of  the  pattern 
lying  in  her  lap,  which  had  come  to  her  "with 
the  love  of  Eleanor  Forrest  Townsend." 

"I  thought  it  looked  like  you,"  returned  Mrs. 
Townsend,  who  was  looking  very  much  pleased 
herself  over  a  handkerchief  wrought  by  Nancy's 
clever  art.  The  others  were  busy  over  their 
gifts;  it  was  a  pandemonium  of  exclamations 
and  congratulations,  expressions  of  gratitude  and 
observations  of  wonder  and  delight.  Shirley, 
her  lap  full  of  parcels,  tissue-paper,  ribbons, 
and  cards  of  presentation,  talking  and  exclaiming 
with  the  rest,  was  yet  keeping  her  eye  on  Santa 
Claus,  as  he  stripped  the  tree.  She  was  watching 
for  the  moment  when  he  should  find  that  envelope. 


3oo  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

When  it  came,  she  meant  to  be  out  of  the  room 
and  away. 

Meanwhile  Santa  Claus  dropped  a  fresh  pack 
age  into  her  lap.  She  recognised  the  saint's 
own  handwriting  on  the  wrapper  —  a  bolder, 
firmer  hand  than  one  would  have  expected  from 
a  gentleman  with  so  long  and  snowy  a  beard. 
She  opened  it  with  strong  anticipation,  and  found 
within  a  set  of  note-books  of  special  style  and 
quality,  evidently  made  to  order,  for  the  binding 
was  of  a  beautiful  texture  of  leather,  and  the 
paper  within  of  the  best  known  to  trade  —  the 
thin  India,  used  only  for  fine  work.  Her  name, 
delicately  stenciled  on  the  covers,  completed  a 
gift  which  appealed  to  the  girl  with  a  sense  of  the 
thought  and  care  put  into  its  make-up.  She 
looked  up,  to  find  Santa  Claus's  eyes  watching 
her  from  behind  the  tree,  his  lips  smiling  beneath 
the  white  beard,  for  her  surprise  and  pleasure 
were  plainly  to  be  read  upon  her  face.  She 
nodded  at  him,  colouring  rosily  —  a  picture, 
in  her  gray  and  scarlet  frock,  as  she  sat  upon  the 
floor  surrounded  by  her  gifts,  the  sight  of  which 
was  quite  sufficient  to  reward  any  giver. 

Almost  everything  was  off  the  tree.  "  Hello, 
here  's  something  I  nearly  missed!"  murmured 
Santa  Claus,  catching  sight  of  the  corner  of  the 
white  envelope  beneath  the  golden  ball.  Shirley 


IN  GAY  STREET  301 

looked  up  quickly,  saw  him  struggling  with  the 
red  ribbon  which  tied  the  envelope  in  place, 
and  rose  to  her  feet,  letting  a  lapful  of  miscel 
laneous  articles  slide  to  the  floor. 

Everybody  was  busy,  and  only  Mrs.  Bell 
noticed,  and  said,  gently,  "Look  out,  dear,  you  're 
dropping  things."  But  Shirley  was  gone,  through 
the  crowd  of  people  and  packages,  to  the  door, 
and  had  closed  it  softly  behind  her. 

Peter  had  already  had  a  gift  from  Shirley,  a 
little  thing.  She  was  not  the  girl  to  present 
any  man  with  a  keepsake  more  valuable  than 
the  small  book  of  modern  verse  which  had  in 
it  certain  stirring  lines  that  she  knew  would  be 
a  stimulus  to  him.  So  when  he  saw  his  own 
name  in  typewriting  upon  the  envelope,  he 
opened  it  without  much  consideration,  thinking 
it  a  joke  of  Ross's  or  Rufus's.  But  a  second 
envelope  was  fitted  inside  the  first,  and  it  was 
labeled,  "  Please  don't  read  this  in  public." 

His  curiosity  was  awakened  now,  and  slip 
ping  the  communication  into  his  pocket,  he 
summarily  finished  his  duties  by  distributing 
the  few  remaining  parcels  without  comment, 
and  then  walked  away  out  of  the  room.  It  had 
occurred  to  him  that  that  note-paper  was  of  a  sort 
that  he  had  seen  once  or  twice  before,when  Shirley 
had  had  occasion  to  send  him  a  note  of  invitation. 


302  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

Outside  in  the  hall,  which  was  dimly  lighted  by 
an  oil  side-lamp  screwed  to  the  wall,  Peter  opened 
his  inner  envelope.  Still  in  typewritten  characters 
was  a  set  of  rhymes,  cast  in  a  popular  fashion  used 
by  makers  of  humorous  doggerel.  His  eye  ran 
over  them  hurriedly,  with  a  low  ejaculation  of 
astonishment  and  incredulity  at  the  end;  then 
he  read  them  again  more  intently,  looking  as  if 
he  could  not  believe  the  evidence  of  his  eyes, 
They  ran  thus: 

A  farm  owned  by  people  named  Bell 

Was  a  place  where  a  Thorn  would  fain  dwelL 

So  he  bought  up  a  mortgage. 

Intending  to  war  wage 
On  the  property-owners  named  Bell. 

Now  one  of  the  Bells,  christened  Peter, 
Thought  life  would  be  fuller  and  sweeter 
If  the  farm  could  be  shorn 
Of  this  sharp-pricking  Thorn, 
For  he  feared  a  foreclosure,  did  Peter. 

A  designing  young  person  called  Townsend 
Was  seeking  investment  (cash  down),  and 

She  purchased  the  mortgage. 

She  never  will  war  wage, 
She'll  never  foreclose,  will  S.  Townsend. 

Peter  had  noticed,  if  nobody  else  had,  when 
Shirley  went  out  of  the  room.  He  now  under 
stood  her  sudden  disappearance.  He  made  a 
quick  trip  through  the  lower  part  of  the  house, 
paper  in  hand,  his  questioning  gaze  penetrating 


IN  GAY  STREET  303 

every  corner.  She  was  not  in  the  sitting-room, 
or  the  dining-room,  or  the  kitchen  —  at  least  he 
thought  she  was  not,  although  he  even  looked 
into  the  wood-shed.  As  he  was  returning  through 
the  kitchen,  an  expression  of  determination  on 
his  face  not  wholly  obscured  by  his  patriarchal 
beard,  whose  hitherto  uncomfortable  presence 
he  had  quite  forgotten,  a  slight  movement  of  the 
pantry  door  caught  his  eye.  He  seized  the  door 
knob.  It  would  not  turn  for  a  moment;  then  it 
slipped  slowly  round,  for  his  fingers  were  stronger 
than  hers. 

The  two  confronted  each  other  —  the  white- 
bearded  gentleman,  with  the  figure  of  an  athlete 
and  the  eyes  of  an  excited  youth,  and  the  slim 
girl  in  the  gray  silk,  with  cheeks  like  her  scarlet 
ribbons. 

"What  does  this  mean  ?"  demanded  Santa 
Claus.  He  put  forth  one  vigorous  arm  and  drew  the 
runaway  out  from  the  closet  by  her  resisting  hand. 

"Just  what  it  says,  I  should  think,"  answered 
Shirley,  bravely,  although  trembling.  Had  she 
offended  him  ?  Through  the  whole  transaction 
that  had  been  the  one  burden  of  her  anxiety. 
"  It  does  n't  say  it  very  clearly,  but  she  never 
tried  writing  limericks  before.  They  're  not  so 
easy  as  you  might  think," 

"She!     Who'rM 


304  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"<S.  Townsend.'" 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  you  've  actually  bought 
that  mortgage  ?" 

"  Murray  did  the  business.  I  did  n't  see  Mr. 
Thorn." 

"  But  you  own  the  mortgage  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Thorn  did  n't  want  to  sell  it." 

"No  —  but  he  had  to  take  payment  if  it 
came  when  the  mortgage  matured." 

"It  isn't  due  for  six  weeks  yet." 

"  He  did  n't  mind  being  paid  sooner,  when 
he  found  all  hope  of  the  chance  of  foreclosing 
was  gone." 

"  He  would  n't  sell  for  the  face  of  it  ?" 

"  I  'm  not  familiar  with  business  terms,"  urged 
Shirley. 

"  Not  ?  A  girl  who  holds  a  position  with 
Townsend  &  Company!  Tell  me,  Shirley — • 
you  did  n't  get  that  mortgage  six  weeks  before  it 
was  due,  for  the  face  value  of  it  ?" 

"Not  quite." 

"How  much  did  you  pay?" 

"Not  more  than  it  was  worth." 

"  Please  tell  me  how  much  more  you  paid." 

"  I  think  that 's  my  affair,"  said  Shirley,  with 
her  head  up.  But  her  eyes  were  down. 

There    was    a    silence.     Peter    put    his    hand 


IN  GAY  STREET  305 

to  his  mouth  with  intent  to  cover  a  sudden  urgent 
and  unwonted  necessity  to  steady  his  lips.  He 
encountered  the  beard,  tore  it  off,  and  cast  the 
wig  beside  it  upon  the  floor.  A  young  man  with 
a  face  of  mingled  light  and  shadow  emerged 
from  the  disguise  of  the  elderly  one. 

"  If  I  did  n't  know  that,  with  this  farm  as 
security,  you  'd  made  a  safe  investment,  I 
could  n't  stand  this,"  he  said,  in  a  low  tone. 
"But  I  know  that  making  a  safe  investment 
was  the  last  thing  you  cared  about.  You  wanted 
to  stand  by  in  a  time  of  need— and  you  've  done  it." 

"You  mustn't  think,"  said  Shirley,  looking 
up  eagerly,  "that  you  're  under  the  least  obliga 
tion  to  me.  It 's  just  as  you  say.  The  farm  it 
self  is  more  than  security.  It 's  merely  a  matter 
of  business.  You  know,  I  'm  learning  to  manage 
my  little  affairs.  Father  thought  it  would  be 
good  for  me.  And  a  change  of  investment 
like  this  is  great  fun." 

Peter  looked  at  her  steadily.  "Oh,  no,  we  're 
not  under  the  least  obligation  to  you!"  he  an 
swered.  "It's  very  easy  to  find  people  to  take 
a  mortgage  at  terms  that  will  induce  a  man  to 
sell  it  who  's  looking  for  a  chance  to  foreclose  • — 
that 's  why  I  have  n't  done  any  worrying  about 

the  matter!  Shirley  —  you  're "  he  seized  her 

hand.  "You're " 


306  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"  It  *s  all  right,"  said  Shirley,  turning  her  head 
away  with  a  sudden  access  of  shyness.  There 
was  no  knowing  what  terms  Peter  might  be  going 
to  use,  when  his  voice  dropped  to  that  vibrating 
note. 

But  she  did  not  escape.  Peter  was  ordinarily 
a  self-controlled  young  man,  with  a  cool  head 
not  likely  to  be  carried  away  by  sudden  emotion. 
But  he  had  a  warm  heart,  none  the  less,  and  the 
girl's  friendly  act  had  touched  him  deeply.  Be* 
sides,  he  was,  as  has  been  admitted  before, 
entirely  human,  and  Shirley,  in  her  gray  and  scar% 
let,  with  her  brilliant  cheeks  and  drooping  eyes, 
was  a  very  captivating  figure.  Tightening  his 
grasp  upon  her  hand  he  ended  his  impulsive 
speech  half  under  his  breath  with  — "  You  're 
the  — dearest  —  girl  in  the  world!" 

What  he  would  have  said  —  or  done  —  next 
can  only  be  conjectured,  for  upon  this  unexpected 
and  most  disconcerting  demonstration  Shirley 
pulled  her  hand  away  and  ran  —  somewhere  — 
anywhere  —  she  did  not  just  know  where.  In 
this  indefinite  region  she  remained  for  fully  half 
an  hour.  In  the  end  she  had  to  come  back  to 
the  living-room,  but  when  she  did  it  was  not  to 
look  at  Peter. 

As  for  Peter  himself,  when  he  had  got  rid  of 
bis  Santa  Claus  costume  and  put  himself  in 


IN  GAY  STREET  307 

order  again,  he  also  came  back  to  the  living-room. 
His  face  had  been  put  in  order  as  well  as  his  dress, 
and  nobody  noticed  anything  odd  about  him. 
But  there  was  something  odd  about  him  —  very 
odd.  He  felt  like  a  railway  locomotive  off  the 
track,  obliged  to  convey  to  the  beholders,  by  its 
steadiness  of  gait,  the  impression  that  it  was 
still  on! 


CHAPTER  IX 

A  RED  GLARE 

BY  ALL  that 's  astonishing,  are  you  actually 
idling  ?     And  may  I  come  and  idle,  too  r" 

Shirley  looked  up  from  the  depths  of  one  of 
the  capacious  willow  chairs,  which,  well  stocked 
with  cushions,  were  favourite  lounging-places 
upon  the  great  side  porch  of  the  Townsend  house, 
and  from  which  one  could  look  out  over  a  long 
and  charming  stretch  of  lawn  toward  the  tennis- 
court. 

It  was  a  warm  evening  in  late  May.  Every 
body  else  was  away,  and  Shirley  had  settled 
herself  for  one  of  the  rare  hours  of  rest  and  solitude 
which  she  so  much  enjoyed  when  her  work  was 
done.  But  she  answered  Brant  Hille  cordially: 

"Of  course  you  may,  if  you  will  be  nice  and 
soothing.  These  first  warm  days  make  me  feel 
a  trifle  lazy." 

"Not  strange,  when  you  spend  them  in  a 
stuffy  office."  Brant  accepted  the  cushions  she 
tossed  to  him,  and  disposed  himself  comfortably 
upon  them  on  the  top  step  near  her  feet. 

308 


IN  GAY  STREET  309 

"The  office  isn't  stuffy.  I  Ve  sat  by  a  wide- 
open  window  all  day.  Besides,  the  first  thing 
Murray  did  when  he  went  in  with  father  was 
to  overhaul  our  whole  system  of  ventilation. 
So  the  office  is  never  stuffy,  even  in  winter." 

"  Don't  be  belligerent,  or  I  '11  not  be  responsible 
for  the  soothing  effects  of  my  society.  What 
can  I  do  to  lull  you  to  repose  ?  You  don't  like 
banjo  music,  or  I  'd  have  brought  my  banjo  over. 
It 's  just  the  evening  for  that." 

"If  you  had,  you'd  have  gone  home  again." 

"You  are  in  a  sweet  mood!"  Brant  spoke 
with  the  familiarity  of  old  acquaintance.  "  Would 
you  object  to  telling  me  what 's  gone  wrong  with 
your  ladyship  ?" 

"  I  can't  find  out  the  French  for  certain  phrases 
it 's  necessary  to  use  in  the  correspondence  we 
have  on  hand  just  now.  There  are  no  equivalents 
for  the  idioms  that  I  can  discover  as  yet,  and 
it 's  most  important  that  I  get  them  right.  I  've 
practically  had  to  make  a  phrase-book  for  myself 
so  far,  because  the  dictionaries  and  hand-books 
don't  give  the  terms  I  want.  I  got  hold  of  some 
old  correspondence  last  week  that  helped  me 
immensely,  but  to-day  I  was  completely  baffled. 
I  suppose  it  has  got  on  my  nerves,  and  made  me 
fractious." 

Yet  she  did  not  look  particularly  nerve-worn, 


3io  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

lying  there  in  the  low  chair,  in  her  thin  white 
frock,  her  round  arms  resting  upon  the  arms 
of  the  chair,  her  head  thrown  back,  as  she  re 
garded  her  visitor  from  under  low-sweeping  lashes. 
Neither  did  she  look  in  the  least  like  the  young 
woman  of  business  she  had  become. 

Brant  was  always  trying  to  convince  himself 
that  her  work  was  spoiling  her  —  it  would  be  a 
comforting  realisation  if  he  could  think  it.  But 
as  often  as  he  had  succeeded  in  making  himself 
half  believe  that  some  other  girl,  whose  ways 
of  living  were  such  as  he  approved,  was  nearly 
as  attractive  as  Shirley  Townsend,  just  so  often 
did  the  sight  of  Shirley  in  some  unbusinesslike 
surroundings  upset  his  convictions.  To-night 
she  looked  particularly  feminine  and  alluring,  in 
spite  of  her  avowed  fractiousness  and  her  expla 
nation  of  the  cause. 

"All  baffling  things  wear  on  one,"  he  answered^ 
with  an  air  of  being  sympathetic.  "I  know 
how  it  is,  from  experience.  I  *d  like  a  dictionary 
or  a  phrase-book  myself  —  one  that  would  tell 
me  what  to  say  to  you  when  you  want  to  be 
'soothed.'  Shall  I  go  in  and  get  a  book  of  verse 
and  read  aloud  to  you  ?" 

"Please  don't" 

"Fiction,  then  ? 

"Worse  and  worse." 


IN  GAY  STREET  311 

"History?  Philosphy  ?  Science?  Travel? 
- —  Or  humour  ?" 

"None  of  them.  I  don't  like  to  be  read  to  — 
as  a  duty." 

"Duty!     I 'd  be  delighted." 

"I  shouldn't,  then." 

"  What  do  you  want  ?" 

"Silence,  I  think,"  said  the  girl  in  the  chair, 
with  a  mischievous  look  at  the  back  of  her  com 
panion's  head.  Her  face  was  demure  again, 
however,  when  he  turned.  "Don't  you  like  just 
to  sit  and  gaze  off  into  space  on  a  languid  night 
like  this,  and  say  nothing  at  all  ?" 

"  If  you  prefer  to  have  me  go  home  - 

"Not  in  the  least.  I'  d  like  to  know  you  were 
there  on  call  —  if  you  would  n't  talk." 

A  silence  of  some  length  ensued.  Brant  stared 
moodily  off  over  the  darkening  lawn,  watching 
distant  electric  lights  twinkle  into  existence 
along  the  rows  of  tree-tops  which  outlined  the 
streets.  Shirley  closed  her  eyes.  She  really 
was  more  weary  than  she  knew.  It  had  been 
a  busy  winter  in  the  office,  and  she  had  worked 
hard  to  be  able  to  fill  the  place  she  held.  Her 
achievements  in  the  matter  of  the  technical 
French  correspondence  had  proved  of  consid 
erable  importance  to  the  firm,  and  her  satis 
faction  at  becoming  so  useful  had  led  her  to 


3i2  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

spend  much  of  her  spare  time  in  making  herself 
proficient. 

It  was  fully  fifteen  minutes  —  he  thought  it 
at  least  an  hour  —  before  Brant  looked  around. 
He  had  vowed  to  himself  that  he  would  give  her 
all  the  silence  she  wanted,  that  he  would  not  speak 
until  she  spoke.  But  after  a  time  her  absolute 
motionlessness  struck  him  as  caused  by  something 
even  less  flattering  to  himself  than  her  desire 
for  absence  of  speech. 

"Confound  it  —  I  believe  she  's  gone  to  sleep!" 
he  said  to  himself,  and  rose  abruptly,  to  stand 
looking  down  at  her,  discomfited  and  very  nearly 
angry.  Of  all  the  odd  girls,  one  who  would  tell 
you  to  stop  talking,  and  then  go  off  to  sleep  in 
your  presence,  was  certainly  the  oddest.  He 
supposed  she  might  be  tired,  and  with  reason, 
but  —  to  go  to  sleep ! 

The  shaded  electric  bulbs,  which  hung  at  each 
corner  of  the  porch,  at  this  moment  came  glow 
ingly  into  life,  as  somebody  within  switched  on  the 
current.  They  were  not  designed  to  illuminate 
the  porch  strongly,  only  to  turn  its  gloom  into  a 
mellow  moonlight  effect.  But  the  light  was 
quite  sufficient  to  show  Brant  that  although 
Shirley's  lashes  still  swept  her  cheek,  her  lips 
were  smiling. 

"It  was  a  frightful   test  of  your  friendship, 


IN  GAY  STREET 

was  n't  it  ?"  she  murmured,  without  opening  her 
eyes.  "But  you  did  nobly.  I  never  thought 
you  could  hold  out  so  long!" 

"You  —  rascal!  I  '11  wager  you  wanted  to 
talk,  yourself,  after  a  while." 

"Of  course  I  did.  The  minute  a  woman 
gets  what  she  wants,  she  wants  —  something 
rise." 

"  What  is  it  now  ?     Me  to  go  home  ?" 

"How  distrustful  of  yourself  you  are  to-night!" 

"That 's  the  effect  you  usually  have  on  me." 
Brant  drew  up  a  chair.  "Shirley,"  he  began 
again  abruptly,  "do  you  know  what  I  wish?" 

"No." 

"  Do  you  want  to  know  it  ?" 

"Not  badly." 

"  You  don't  care  a  straw  for  me,  do  you  ?" 

"Several  straws." 

"You  do!     Isay- 

A  door  opened.  Sophy  said,  deferentially, 
"You  're  wanted  at  the  telephone,  if  you  please, 
Miss  Shirley." 

Shirley  vanished.  Brant  rose  and  paced  about 
the  porch,  waiting. 

"Of  course  it 's  no  use!"  he  said,  discontentedly, 
to  himself.  "  I  Ve  got  as  far  as  this  forty  times 
— and  no  farther.  The  next  thing  she  did  would 
be  to  throw  a  soaking  wet  blanket  over  me.  J 


3i4  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

ought  to  be  used  to  it.  But  she  might  at  least  take 
me  seriously.  She  never  does.  It  's  no  good  — • 
this  growing  up  with  a  girl  and  dien  trying  to 
convince  her  that  you  mean  anything  when  you 
speak!" 

Inside,  Shirley  was  listening  to  a  rapid  fire 
of  words  which  woke  her  up  as  thoroughly  as 
anything  had  ever  done  in  her  life.  They  came 
in  the  voice  of  Peter  Bell,  a  voice  at  once  excited 
and  controlled: 

"Shirley,  the  factory  is  on  fire.  I  don't  want 
father  to  hear  about  it  —  he  'd  come  down  — 
you  understand.  Will  you  think  up  some  way 
to  get  him  off  with  yourself  for  the  next  hour  ? 
We  '11  probably  have  to  turn  in  a  general  alarm, 
and  if  we  do,  somebody  '11  be  sure  to  call  him 
up  and  tell  him.  That 's  all.  I  can  count  on 
yea  ?" 

"Yes  — yes.     Peter - 

But  Peter  was  already  gone.  Evidently  he 
had  no  time  to  spare  for  answering  questions. 
Shirley  turned  away  from  the  telephone,  thinking 
rapidly. 

She  knew  that  Mr.  Joseph  Bell  was  at  home, 
for  she  had  seen  him,  an  hour  earlier,  training 
vines  over  the  front  porch.  She  understood  that 
Peter  had  remained  for  late  work  at  the  fac 
tory  office,  as  he  so  often  did,  although  it  was 


IN  GAY  STREET  315 

now  nearly  nine  o'clock.  And  she  knew  well 
that  it  would  never  do  for  Peter's  father  to  go 
down  to  the  burning  building — the  excitement  of 
a  great  fire  at  his  own  place  of  business  would  be 
the  worst  thing  in  the  world  for  him. 

Mr.  Joseph  Bell  had  kept  steadily  on  at  his 
work  throughout  the  year,  and  nothing  that 
Peter  had  feared  had  happened.  It  had  been 
arranged  somehow  so  that  the  most  fatiguing 
part  of  his  duties  now  came  upon  the  broad 
shoulders  of  the  son  instead  of  the  bent  ones  of 
the  father.  But  it  was  as  necessary  as  ever 
that  there  should  be  no  sudden  strain,  either 
physical  or  mental,  and  it  was  this  which  she 
now  must  prevent. 

Brant  Hille,  waiting  impatiently  outside,  saw 
Shirley  fly  back  to  him,  and  looked  up  at  her 
with  gratification.  But  her  first  words  made 
him  sit  up,  for  she  spoke  in  haste: 

"  Brant,  is  your  car  ready  for  a  start  ?" 

"Always  is.     Want  to  - 

"Will  you  get  it  —  quick?  The  Armstrong 
paper-factory  is  on  fire.  Mr.  Bell  mustn't 
know  it.  I  can't  stop  to  explain.  I  must  get 
him  away  where  he  won't  hear.  I  '11  go  ask 
him  and  Mrs.  Bell  to  take  a  drive  with  us  —  out 
to  the  farm,  perhaps.  I  '11  run  over.  You 
drive  round  there  —  will  you  ?" 


3i6  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"  Why  on  earth  should  n't  he  know  ?     He  - 

"Oh,  don't  stop  to  talk  about  it.  I'll  tell 
you  afterward.  The  general  alarm  may  go  in 
any  minute,  and  somebody  will  telephone  him 
T  he  's  at  the  house.  Quick  —  please!" 

Of  course  Brant  did  not  understand,  but 
Shirley's  manner  was  not  to  be  taken  lightly. 
Even  as  she  spoke  she  left  him  and  ran  indoors 
again.  Well,  if  he  could  serve  her,  it  would  be 
better  than  having  to  sit  beside  her  in  silence 
while  she  thought  about  technical  French  phrases. 
Besides,  he  was  an  enthusiastic  motorist,  and  a 
hurry  call  for  the  car  always  gave  him  more  or 
less  pleasure.  He  bolted  across  the  lawn,  through 
the  hedge  by  a  short  cut  to  the  street,  and  so  to 
his  own  home,  on  the  farther  side  of  Worthington 
Square. 

Shirley  hurried  across  Gay  Street,  having 
stopped  only  to  pick  up  a  long  coat  and  scarf. 
She  caught  sight  of  Mrs.  Bell's  light  skirt  at  the 
edge  of  the  vine-screen  of  the  porch. 

"Isn't  it  a  perfect  night?"  Mrs.  Bell  heard 
a  familiar,  clear-toned  voice  ask.  "Don't  you 
and  Mr.  Bell  want  to  take  a  gentle  little  spin 
down  Northboro  road  in  Mr.  Hille's  car  ?  He  's 
asked  me  out,  and  given  me  leave  to  invite  whom 
ever  I  want.  I  'd  love  to  have  you." 

Mr.     Brant     Hille — inviting     Mr.    and    Mrs. 


IN  GAY  STREET  317 

Joseph  Bell  to  go  motoring  with  him  at  nine 
o'clock  on  a  May  evening  —  there  was  no  prece 
dent  for  this!  But  Mrs.  Bell,  with  the  intuition 
of  the  mother  of  young  people,  thought  she 
understood.  Shirley  wanted  a  chaperon,  and 
her  kind  young  heart  prompted  her  to  ask  a 
pair  who  were  not  much  accustomed  to  the  delights 
of  auEomobiling  in  the  moonlight. 

"Why,  yes,  we'll  go,"  said  Mr.  Bell,  getting 
up  from  his  rocking-chair.  "We  're  all  alone 
to-night  —  the  young  people  are  off  at  a  party. 
If  you  '11  persuade  the  young  man  not  to  put  on 
too  much  speed." 

So  in  less  than  five  minutes  the  party  were 
settling  themselves  in  the  big  green  car,  its  head 
lights  making  a  wide,  brilliant  track  before  it 
down  the  quiet  street. 

"All  ready?"  asked  Hille,  and  started  the 
car.  As  it  began  to  move,  the  distant  but  dis 
tinct  sound  of  a  telephone-bell  struck  upon 
Shirley's  ear.  Mr.  Bell  turned  his  head. 

"Was  that  in  our  house  ?"  he  asked. 

Mrs.  Bell  was  tying  a  scarf  over  her  hair, 
slightly  muffling  her  ears.  She  had  not  heard. 

"Go  on  — fast!"  breathed  Shirley  in  Hille's 
ear.  The  street  was  nearly  empty,  and  he 
obeyed.  For  a  moment  Mr.  Bell's  attention 
was  taken  by  the  new  sensation  of  speed, — not 


3i8  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

appreciable  speed,  from  the  motorist's  stand 
point,  because  the  car  was  within  city  limits,  but 
to  the  novice  considerable. 

At  the  intersection  of  Gay  Street  with  Conner 
Street  it  was  possible  to  look  for  a  moment  straight 
down  toward  the  heart  of  the  city,  into  the  busi 
ness  district.  A  red  glare  was  plainly  visible, 
although  partly  dimmed  by  hundreds  of  twinkling 
electric  lights  between. 

"Must  be  a  big  fire,"  said  Mr.  Bell,  straining 
his  eyes  to  see.  Then  the  trees  and  houses  hid 
the  city  from  view.  "It  was  down  our  way, 
too.  I  wish  I  could  telephone  the  factory  and 
find  out.  Peter's  there.  He  'd  know.  Might 
be  that  was  our  telephone-bell  that  rang." 

"  I  did  n't  hear  any  bell,  dear,"  his  wife  assured 
him. 

"A  fire  always  looks  nearer  than  it  is,"  said 
Hille,  over  his  shoulder,  driving  on  without 
diminishing  his  speed.  Instead,  he  accelerated 
it.  The  street  was  a  quiet  one,  there  was  nobody 
in  sight. 

"One  summer,  when  I  was  a  little  girl,  and 
we  were  staying  in  the  country,  father  and  I 
walked  half  a  mile  to  see  a  fire  —  and  found  a 
big  red  moon  coming  up  behind  the  trees,"  said 
Shirley,  and  talked  lightly  on. 

Brant  seconded  her  efforts  with  skill,  for  which 


IN  GAY  STREET  310 

inwardly  thanked  him,  and  between  them 
they  soon  had  the  thoughts  of  their  guests  far 
away  from  the  dangerous  subject.  They  ran 
quickly  through  the  suburbs  out  into  the  open 
country,  taking  the  Northboro  road,  for  that 
course  led  directly  away  from  the  red  glare  which, 
as  Shirley  covertly  glanced  back  from  time  to 
time,  could  be  clearly  perceived  on  the  western 
side  of  the  city  behind  them. 

Gaily  as  she  talked  and  laughed,  the  girl's 
thoughts  were  with  Peter.  He  was  somewhere 
back  in  that  red  glare,  working,  without  doubt, 
if  there  were  anything  for  him  to  do.  She  was 
thankful  that  it  was  after  hours,  and  that  there 
were  probably  few  of  the  factory  hands  about 
the  place,  yet  there  were  undoubtedly  many 
things  to  be  saved  in  the  office  —  books  and  papers 
and  drawings.  She  knew  Peter  well  enough  to 
be  sure  that  his  own  personal  safety  would  be 
the  last  thing  he  would  think  of,  so  long  as  he 
could  do  what  might  look  like  his  duty  to  the  house 
he  served. 

The  Bells  did  not  know  how  far  they  went, 
nor  did  they  guess  at  what  a  pace.  Brant's 
machine  was  a  fine  one,  and  he  was  an  expert 
at  smooth  running.  The  flight  through  the 
warm  moonlight  was  a  delightful  experience, 
for  frw  curves  and  no  sharp  grades  gave  accent 


320  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

to  the  speed,  and  the  hour  flew  by  as  swiftly 
as  the  road.  When  they  turned  again  toward 
the  city,  the  crimson  glow  upon  the  clouds  had 
gone. 

"The  fire  is  out,"  remarked  Mr.  Bell,  as  they 
arrived  at  the  top  of  a  small  hill  in  the  suburbs, 
from  which  he  could  see  into  the  heart  of  the  busi 
ness  district.  "  Hope  it  was  n't  as  serious  as  it 
looked." 

But  Brant's  eyes  and  Shirley's,  younger  and 
sharper,  could  make  out  a  dense  mass  of  smoke 
hanging  over  the  place  where  the  flames  had 
been. 

"It  won't  do  to  take  them  home  yet,"  thought 
the  girl,  setting  her  wits  at  work  agaf'a. 

The  result  was  an  invitation  to  the  Bells  to 
alight  at  the  great  porch  of  the  Townsend  house, 
instead  of  in  Gay  Street,  with  the  promise  of 
some  light  refreshment.  At  first  they  shook 
their  heads;  but  Hille  declared  so  loudly  that 
he  knew  what  Shirley  had  to  offer,  and  could 
not  think  of  letting  them  down  short  of  the  full 
measure  of  the  entertainment,  that  there  seemed 
to  be  no  way  out  without  spoiling  the  pleasure 
of  the  two  young  people.  So  presently  they  were 
all  partaking  of  a  hastily  concocted  iced  drink, 
served  with  tiny  cakes,  and  laughing  over  Hille 's 
stones  of  certain  college  incidents,  which  he 


IN  GAY  STREET  321 

told  with  gusto,  incited  thereto  by  Shirley's 
whispered,  "You  're  helping  me  splendidly. 
Please  keep  it  up,  and  I  '11  be  forever  in  your  debt." 

*'  If  there  's  any  way  of  making  you  forever 
in  my  debt,"  Brant  made  reply  under  his  breath, 
'*  I  '11  do  a  continuous  performance  for  your 
friends  till  daylight." 

But  such  an  effort  as  this  would  have  been  was 
unnecessary.  Mrs.  Bell  presently  took  her  hus 
band  away,  and  since  it  was  a  late  hour,  and  no 
other  chaperons  appeared  upon  the  scene,  Brant  was 
forced  to  go,  also.  He  was  obliged  to  give  up 
making  any  further  attempts  at  gaining  headway 
in  Shirley's  good  graces,  for  although  she  dis 
missed  him  with  hearty  thanks,  it  was  with  an 
air  of  abstraction  hardly  to  be  wondered  at.  Her 
one  desire  was  to  hear  the  telephone-bell  ring 
again,  and  learn  that  although  the  factory  might 
have  burned  to  the  ground,  no  lives  were  lost  — 
and  that  not  a  hair  of  her  friend's  head  was  hurt. 

She  stood  alone  upon  the  porch,  waiting 
anxiously,  when  the  Townsend  landau  drove 
in  at  the  gate,  bringing  home  Murray  and  Jane, 
who  had  been  out  to  dinner. 

"There  she  is,"  said  Murray,  with  suppressed 
excitement.  The  next  instant  he  was  out,  had 
whirled  Jane  out  also,  and  was  grasping  his 
roung  sister's  hands. 


322  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"  Don't  be  frightened  —  it  's  all  right.  But 
a  few  things  have  happened  this  evening.  The 
Armstrong  factory  - 

"  I  know.     Is  it  gone  ?" 

"To  the  foundations.  Peter  found  the  fire, 
fought  it  alone  till  the  firemen  came,  rescued 
the  night-watchman  —  played  the  leading  part 
generally  —  till  an  accident  put  him  out.  My 
word ! — that  fellow  -  —Well  —  he  's  all  right,  but 
he  's  burned  a  bit,  and  his  leg  's  broken.  He 
was  so  confoundedly  risky,  trying  to  save  the  last 
calendar  on  the  wall  - 

"Where  is  he?" 

"St.  Martin's  Hospital.  We  've  just  come 
from  there.  He  got  his  knock-out  the  first  half- 
hour  after  the  thing  began,  so  there  's  been  time 
to  get  him  fixed  up.  Our  man  Larrabee  was 
at  the  fire,  saw  Peter  put  into  the  ambulance, 
and  telephoned  me  at  the  Kingsfords'.  Tried 
three  times  to  get  his  people  at  home,  but  could  n't. 
See  here,  he  wants  you  to  tell  his  mother  — 
says  Jane  is  too  much  upset." 

Shirley  looked  at  Jane.  "  I  'm  not  upset," 
said  Jane,  but  her  lips  were  unsteady.  Murray 
put  his  arm  around  her. 

"You  see,  Larrabee  thought  it  was  worse 
than  it  was  with  Peter,  when  they  put  him  in 
the  ambulance.  He  was  stunned  by  the  fall 


IN  GAY   STREET  323 

that  broke  his  leg.  It  gave  Janey  a  bad  shock, 
and  no  wonder  — it  did  me.  But  the  old  boy  's 
himself  again,  all  right,  and  his  one  idea  is  to 
let  his  mother  know  why  he  does  n't  come  home, 
but  to  keep  even  the  news  of  the  factory  fire  from 
his  father  to-night,  if  he  can.  We  don't  see  why, 
but  he  seems  to,  so  we  '11  follow  his  wishes.  It  's 
the  least  we  can  do  for  him." 

Shirley  slipped  through  the  hedge,  and  slowly 
crossed  Gay  Street  in  the  moonlight.  She  was 
trying  hard  to  be  cool  and  do  as  Peter  wanted 
her  to  do.  If  she  rang,  Mr.  Bell  would  come 
to  the  door,  and  then  how  should  she  manage, 
what  excuse  should  she  give  ?  She  thought 
of  a  way. 

"Mr.  Bell,"  she  said  when  he  appeared, 
"  Janey  's  come  home  from  her  party —  and  she  's 
had  just  a  little  bit  too  much  party.  She  feels  like 
a  small  girl  again,  and  wants  her  mother  to  come 
over  for  a  few  minutes." 

"Why,  of  course,"  said  Mr.  Bell,  heartily, 
from  the  shadow  of  the  doorway.  "Nothing 
much  the  matter  with  the  little  girl  ?" 

"Oh,  no  —  she  '11  be  all  right  in  the  morning." 

So  Mrs.  Bell  crossed  the  road  with  Shirley, 
and  the  girl,  with  her  arm  round  the  elder  woman's 
shoulders,  gently  told  her  the  news.  Mrs.  Bell 
took  it  as  Peter  had  known  she  would,  quietly, 


324  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

although,  aside  from  his  personal  injury,  there 
was  much  cause  for  anxious  thought  in  the  loss 
of  the  factory  and  the  consequent  putting  of  its 
workers  out  of  employment. 

When  Peter's  mother  had  gone  home  again, 
resting  on  Murray's  promise  that  in  the  morning 
he  would  take  her  to  the  hospital,  Shirley  turned 
to  her  brother.  He  had  taken  Jane  upstairs, 
and  come  down  again,  himself  too  restless  to  go 
to  bed.  He  discovered  his  sister  to  be  in  a  like 
mood,  and  they  sat  down  once  more  in  the  moon 
lit  porch  to  talk  it  over,  regardless  of  the  hour, 
which  was  past  midnight. 

"I  wonder  sometimes,"  said  Murray,  sud 
denly,  when  he  had  told  Shirley  in  detail  all 
he  knew  of  the  events  of  the  evening,  "whether 
anybody  but  me  fully  appreciates  that  chap, 
Peter  Bell.  Do  you  know  what  P  ve  been  think 
ing  a  long  time  ?  That  he  's  the  man  we  need 
at  the  head  of  one  of  our  departments.  From 
all  I  can  learn,  he  's  been  growing  as  nearly 
invaluable  to  the  Armstrongs  as  a  man  can  be, 
yet  they  have  n't  raised  his  salary  for  two  years. 
Now  's  our  chance  to  jump  in  and  get  him.  If 
I  can  only  convince  father  —  and  I  think  he  's 
pretty  nearly  convinced  —  I  '11  make  Peter  an 
offer  to-morrow.  Pretty  good  medicine  for  a 
broken  leg  and  burned  hands  —  eh  ?" 


IN  GAY  STREET  325 

"I  should  hope  it  would  be." 

"'You  'd  like  to  see  him  in  the  business,  would  n't 
you  ?" 

"  If  you  think  him  fit  for  it." 

"If  I  think  him  fit!     What  about  you?" 

"  How  can  I  judge  ?     It 's  for  you  to  say." 

Murray  looked  sharply  at  her,  in  the  shaded 
light  of  the  electric  bulbs.  He  smiled,  for  in 
spite  of  her  remarkably  quiet  manner,  her  fingers, 
unconsciously  twisting  and  untwisting  her  delicate 
handkerchief,  were,  as  he  put  it  to  himself, 
"giving  her  away."  He  had  an  idea  that  it 
mattered  a  good  deal  to  his  sister  what  Peter 
Bell's  future  might  be,  although  he  was  confident 
that  there  was  no  understanding  between  them. 

If  he  knew  Peter,  that  young  man  was  not 
the  one  to  ask  to  marry  a  rich  man's  daughter 
until  his  own  feet  were  on  substantial  ground. 
But  that  Peter  cared,  and  cared  very  deeply,  for 
Murray  Townsend's  sister,  Murray  was  well 
assured. 

"  It 's  for  me  to  say,  is  it  ?"  he  went  on,  wickedly 
persisting  in  his  theme.  "  But  it  's  for  you  to 
think!  How  about  having  him  round  our  office 
every  day  —  desk  next  mine  —  giving  you  dicta 
tion,  now  and  then,  maybe,  when  it  suits  me  to 
put  it  off  on  him  ?  Think  you  could  stand  it  ? 
Look  up  at  him  as  coolly  as  you  do  at  me  ?  Could 


326  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

you,  Miss  Townsend,  stenographer  ?  See  here, 
what  are  you  jumping  up  for  ?" 

"  Because  you  are  getting  impudent,"  responded 
Miss  Townsend,  turning  her  head  so  that  her 
face  was  in  shadow.  Her  heart  was  beating 
so  quickly  she  was  afraid  her  brother  would 
recognise  the  fact.  It  had  been  an  agitating 
evening  all  through,  and  now  this  last  suggestion 
was  rather  more  than  she  could  face  with  com 
posure. 

"I've  a  notion  P.  B.  himself  could  put  up 
with  the  situation,"  went  on  Murray,  watching 
her.  "His  dictation  might  be  a  trifle  flurried 
at  first,  and  he  might  forget  himself  now  and 
then,  and  ignore  those  purely  businesslike  rela 
tions  which  should  always  exist  between  a  business 
man  and  his  stenographer.  But  I  Ve  no  doubt 
that  by  a  judicious  course  of  snubbing  you 
could-  -" 

But  he  was  talking  to  the  empty  air.  By  a  hasty 
flight  and  the  abrupt  closing  of  a  door,  his  sister 
had  put  herself  out  of  range. 


CHAPTER  X 

PETER  PREFERS  THE  PORCH 

YOU  'RE  quite  sure  you  want  me  ?"  asked 
Peter  Bell. 

"Quite  sure,"  replied  Murray  Townsend.  The 
two  pairs  of  eyes  looked  into  each  other. 

Peter's  gaze  shifted  to  his  father.  "I  '11  do 
it  under  one  condition,"  he  said.  "That  father 
gives  up  factory  work  and  goes  to  live  at  the 
old  farm." 

Mr.  Harrison  Townsend  turned  also  toward 
Mr.  Joseph  Bell.  He  smiled  slightly,  noting 
the  hesitation  of  the  other  man. 

"It's  time  you  and  I  retired,  Bell,"  said  he. 
"I  've  been  getting  to  the  point  for  a  long  time. 
Let 's  make  a  bargain  of  it.  If  you  '11  go  back 
Co  the  farm,  I  '11  come  and  spend  a  good  share 
of  my  time  there.  I  'd  like  to  help  with  the 
haying.  I  should  enjoy  watching  the  cows 
come  home.  I  '11  venture  to  say  I  could  drive  a 
mowing-machine  —  for  an  hour  or  two." 

The  four  men  occupied  the  small  rear  porch 
of  the  house  in  Gay  Street,  looking  out  on  Nancy's 

327 


328  ROUND  THE   CORNER 

garden.  Peter  lay  upon  a  couch,  his  leg  in 
splints,  his  hands  in  bandages.  After  a  few 
days  at  the  hospital  he  had  been  brought  home, 
to  spend  the  long  hours  of  his  recovery  where 
he  could  bear  them  best.  The  other  three  were 
close  by,  Murray  nearest.  He  had  put  off  making 
his  proposition  to  Peter  until  he  and  his  father 
could  arrive  at  a  perfect  agreement  as  to  every 
term  of  the  offer. 

Joseph  Bell  met  his  son's  meaning  gaze  with 
understanding.  He  knew  nothing  counted  with 
Peter  as  did  the  anxiety  over  his  father's  physical 
condition.  He  hid  kept  his  boy  a  long  time  upon 
the  rack,  because  of  his  own  unwillingness  to 
give  up  his  old  work.  But  the  work  was  taken 
away  from  him  now;  there  would  be  a  considerable 
interval  before  the  Armstrongs  would  be  ready 
for  him  again;  and  he  could  hardly  think  of 
trying  for  a  new  position.  Meanwhile,  the  haying 
season  was  approaching.  He  thought  with  long 
ing  of  the  scent  of  the  newly  cut  grass.  He  could 
not  work  hard  out  under  the  sun,  he  knew  that; 
but  —  he  could  play  at  work.  And  his  friend, 
Harrison  Townsend,  rich  man  though  he  was, 
was  offering  to  play,  too. 

He  looked  at  Peter  and  smiled,  under  his 
short  gray  beard.  Peter  smiled  back  entreat- 
ingly.  Slowly  Joseph  Bell  nodded.  "All  right, 


IN  GAY  STREET  32? 

Peter,"  he  said.  "I  '11  let  you  have  your  way 
at  last." 

For  a  moment  Peter  could  not  speak.  He 
lay  with  dropped  eyelids,  fighting  lest  the  sudden 
relief  from  the  long  strain  should  unman  him 
before  these  who  had  been  paying  tribute  to  his 
manhood.  But  after  a  short  space  he  looked 
from  Mr.  Townsend  to  his  son. 

"  I  '11  come,"  said  he,  and  forgetting  his  ban 
daged  hands,  started  to  hold  one  out.  Then  he 
smiled  whimsically,  and  added  in  an  odd  tone, 
"  If  you  're  not  afraid  of  the  bad  omen  in  taking 
on  a  man  with  a  pair  of  hands  like  these  ?" 

"Not  much,  when  we  remember  what  put 
them  in  that  shape!"  declared  Murray,  in  a  tone 
of  great  satisfaction;  and  his  father  gave  an  em 
phatic  assent. 

"What  do  you  think  *s  going  to  happen  now?" 
cried  Nancy,  rushing  out  upon  Peter's  porch, 
a  week  later. 

"Give  it  up.  But  nothing  can  surprise  me, 
after  recent  events,"  replied  Peter,  removing 
his  gaze  for  a  moment  from  the  morning  news 
paper  pinned  up  in  front  of  him  to  the  excited 
face  of  his  sister,  but  looking  immediately  back 
again  at  the  absorbing  column  of  business  news 
he  had  been  with  some  difficulty  perusing.  Hi? 


330  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

hands  had  been  slow  in  recovering  from  the 
severe  injuries  they  had  received. 

"This  will.  Somebody 's  going  to  be  mar 
ried." 

"Remarkable.  But  such  events  have  occurred 
before  in  the  history  of  nations,"  replied  he* 
brother,  abstractedly. 

"Not  at  the  Townsend  house,  for  Murray 
married  Jane  over  here.  Ah,  ha!  I  thought 
you  'd  give  me  your  undivided  attention  at  last'" 
crowed  Nancy,  triumphantly. 

Peter  did  his  best  to  look  unconcerned,  but 
fiis  heart  had  begun  to  thump  quite  suddenly 
and  disconcertingly.  He  waited.  He  forgot  the 
newspaper. 

"  Have  n't  you  noticed  how  devoted  Brant 
Hille  has  been  for  the  last  year  ?"  Nancy  demanded. 

"No." 

"Then  you  Ve  been  blind." 

"  I  Ve  been  busy." 

"How  oddly  you  speak!     Is  your  throat  sore  ?" 

"Don't  tease,  Nan.  I'm  not  up  to  it."  It 
was  no  use  trying  to  look  unconcerned. 

Nancy  saw,  and  took  pity  on  him,  as  she  might 
not  have  done  if  he  had  been  upon  his  feet.  "  It  's 
Olive,  then  —  though  I  believe  I  could  have  made 
you  think  it  was  Shirley.  It 's  not  Brant  Hille 's 
fault  that  it  is  n't,  I  can  tell  you  that.  Olive's 


IN  GAY  STREET  331 

going  to  marry  an  Englishman  she  met  last  sum 
mer  abroad  —  Mr.  Arthur  Crewe  of  Manchester. 
It 's  just  announced.  The  wedding  's  to  be  the 
first  of  July.  You  '11  be  on  crutches,  Peter. 
Is  n't  that  lucky  ?  You  can  go." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  '11  dance  at  the  wedding!"  agreed 
Peter,  looking  as  if  the  shot  that  missed  him 
had  come  uncomfortably  close. 

"  It 's  going  to  be  a  big  wedding  —  a  gorgeous 
one.  Is  n't  that  like  Olive  ?  Shirley 's  to  be 
maid  of  honour,  and  there  '11  be  six  bridesmaids, 
Six  ushers  —  and  you  'd  have  been  one  if  you 
had  n't  broken  your  leg.  Olive  told  me  so." 

"Compensation  in  all  things,"  murmured  Peter, 

"The  best  man  is  the  Englishman's  brother. 
Olive  says  he  's  stunning.  Would  n't  it  be  funny 
if  he  and  Shirley  should  take  a  fancy  to  each 
other  ?  The  maid  of  honour  and  the  best  man 
often  do,  you  know." 

"Very  interesting.  I  should  say  you  had  been 
taking  a  course  of  novels,  you  're  so  full  of  pos 
sible  plots."  And  Peter  eyed  his  newspaper  at 
if  he  preferred  its  practical  columns  to  his 
sister's  outlines  of  sentimental  situations.  Nancy 
laughed. 

"  Shirley 's  to  have  a  vacation,  for  a  week 
before  the  wedding.  Perhaps  she  '11  find  time 
to  get  over  to  see  you  oftener,  then." 


332  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"She  's  been  over  to  see  me." 

"  How  many  times  ?" 

"Twice." 

"  For  how  long  ?" 

"Five  minutes,  the  first  time,  three,  the  second.** 

"How  many  other  people  present?" 

"A  dozen  or  so." 

"  Have  a  satisfactory  visit  ?" 

"Oh,  very!"  Peter  hit  the  newspaper  with 
his  elbow,  and  it  fell  down.  "What  have  you 
got  it  in  for  me  this  morning  for,  Sis  ?"  he  de 
manded,  wrathfully. 

Nancy  stopped  laughing  and  looked  serious. 
"It  won't  hurt  you  any.  It  may  wake  you  up. 
I  just  want  you  to  know  that  I  'm  honestly  and 
truly  worried  about  Brant  Hille." 

Then  she  vanished,  and  Peter  lay  wishing  he 
had  two  good  legs,  that  he  might  get  up  and  go 
and  see  for  himself  just  how  much  all  this  meant. 
He  read  the  newspaper  no  more  that  morn 
ing;  it  lay  forgotten  on  the  floor  where  it  had 
fallen. 

The  weeks  went  by  slowly  enough  to  the  con 
valescent,  impatient  to  begin  his  new  work, 
and  full  of  plans  for  it.  Long  talks  with  Murray 
helped  most  to  make  the  waiting  endurable, 
and  the  two  young  men  grew  to  know  and  respect 
each  other  still  more  deeply  than  ever  before 


IN  GAY  STREET  333 

Everybody  was  kind.  Both  Mr.  and  Mrs* 
Townsend  came  often  to  see  Peter;  and  even 
Olive,  although  at  times  distraught  with  the 
business  of  preparation  for  her  approaching 
marriage,  found  a  half-hour  now  and  then  in 
which  to  slip  across  to  Gay  Street  and  talk 
with  him. 

At  these  times  she  found  decided  refreshment 
in  his  society,  for  Peter's  ideas  on  the  subject 
of  matrimony  were  both  novel  and  sensible, 
and  in  after  years  she  often  found  herself  remem 
bering  and  putting  into  practice  one  or  another 
of  his  quizzical  maxims,  founded  on  much  shrewd 
observation. 

"You  are  coming  to  my  wedding,  you  know,'* 
she  said,  on  the  last  of  these  occasions,  three 
days  before  the  date  set  for  that  event.  "And 
I  want  you  at  dinner  the  evening  before,  so  you 
may  get  to  know  Mr.  Crewe,  and  he  you,  as  well 
as  you  can  in  one  short  evening.  I  'm  so  disap 
pointed  he  could  n't  be  here  all  this  week,  as 
he  planned." 

"  Dinners  ? —  weddings  ? —  on  these  sticks  ?" 
scoffed  Peter,  that  day  promoted  to  crutches  and 
finding  them  as  yet  merely  invitations  to  ironic 
humour. 

"Certainly.  If  you  make  them  an  excuse 
for  staying  away,  I  shall  never  forgive  you." 


334  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

"  Please  let  me  off  from  the  dinner.  If  you  '11 
put  me  in  the  porch,  and  let  me  be  found  there 
afterward,  I  '11  agree,  but  I  can't  hobble  out  to 
the  table  on  crutches  of  torture." 

"Not  even  to  take  out  Shirley  ?"  Olive  glanced 
at  him  mischievously,  and  saw  him  colour  slightly 
as  he  answered: 

"That  would  be  an  inducement  if  anything 
would.  But  I  'm  sure  you  '11  adopt  my  point 
of  view  if  I  beg  you  to." 

"  Then  I  shall  have  to  send  her  in  with  Geoffrey 
Crewe  —  or  Brant  Hille." 

"Will  the  men  stay  behind  when  the  ladies 
come  out  ?" 

"Yes,  of  course." 

"Then  I  prefer  the  porch,"  persisted  Peter, 
comfortably;  and  Olive  acknowledged  that  he 
had  chosen  the  wiser  part. 

So  on  Tuesday  evening,  when  Shirley,  in  the 
midst  of  a  rainbow-tinted  group  of  young  women, 
floated  airily  out  from  the  brightly  lighted  and 
oppressively  warm  dining-room  to  the  cool,  softly 
lighted  recesses  of  the  great  porch,  it  was  with  a 
sense  of  refreshing  change  that  she  went  straight 
to  the  big  chair  by  a  pillar,  where  Peter  sat  waiting 
for  her.  As  she  dropped  into  a  low  seat  by  his 
side,  she  thought  she  had  never  seen  him  show 
to  greater  advantage,  although  he  could  not 


IN  GAY  STREET  335 

rise  to  do  her  honour,  and  could  only  say,  with 
a  straight,  upward  glance,  "This  is  kind  of  you. 
I  've  been  thinking  for  an  hour  how  you  'd  look 
when  you  came  out  that  door." 

"Do  I  look  it?" 

"  My  imagination  fell  a  long  way  short.  It 's 
months  since  I  've  seen  you  in  this  sort  of  thing." 

He  indicated  her  gauzy  evening  frock  of  pale 
rose-colour.  A  wreath  of  tiny  rosebuds  crowned 
her  hair;  a  little  silver  basket  of  roses,  ribbon-tied, 
lay  in  her  lap,  a  dinner  favour  like  those  the  others 
carried,  but  suiting  her  attire  with  special  charm. 

"  Do  you  remember  our  first  pa*ty  ?"  asked 
Shirley,  smiling  at  him. 

"I  certainly  do,"  Peter  assured  her.  "You 
had  on  a  white  dress  and  pink  ribbons  —  pink 
slippers,  too.  You  came  up  and  slid  your  hand 
into  mine,  because  you  saw  I  was  feeling  lonely, 
You  were  jolly  kind  to  me  that  night,  and  I  never 
forgot  it.  I  suppose  I  was  a  pitiful  object,  stand 
ing  there  looking  on,  all  by  myself." 

"You  did  n't  look  pitiful  at  all,  but  rather 
superior,  if  I  remember,  like  a  big  St.  Bernard, 
condescending  to  watch  the  antics  of  a  lot  of 

O 

frolicsome  terriers." 

Peter  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed  low, 
with  a  gleam  of  white  teeth.  Whatever  there 
might  have  been  that  was  odd  about  Peter's 


336  ROUND   THE  CORNER 

appearance  at  that  first  party,  there  could  be 
no  criticism  of  his  looks  to-night. 

Olive,  taking  critical  note  of  Shirley's  com 
panion,  owned  that  she  should  feel  no  hesitation 
in  presenting  him  to  Mr.  Arthur  Crewe  and  his 
brother  as  a  connection  of  the  family.  When 
that  moment  arrived,  the  American  and  the 
Englishmen  appeared  to  take  a  frank  liking 
to  one  another  on  the  spot,  for  the  Crewes  both 
sat  down  to  talk,  and  Peter,  sitting  up,  met  them 
half-way  in  a  cordial  effort  to  become  acquainted 
in  the  brief  time  allotted  them. 

"Will  you  tell  me  what  you  think  of  him?" 
It  was  Olive,  slipping  for  a  moment  toward  the 
end  of  the  evening  into  the  chair  by  Peter's,  he 
being  temporarily  left  to  himself. 

"I  think  he  's  a  man,"  said  Peter,  heartily, 
and  to  the  point.  "  There  's  nothing  better  I 
could  say  than  that,  is  there  ?" 

"  I  suppose  not,  being  one  yourself.  A  woman 
would  think  it  necessary  to  add  a  number  of 
complimentary  things  about  his  appearance  and 
his  manner  and  all  that." 

"I  could  do  that,  at  a  pinch,"  said  Peter, 
smiling,  "for  my  memory  would  tell  me  that 
they  were  all  right,  though  I  thought  nothing 
about  them  at  the  time.  I  was  looking  to  see 
what  it  was  you  were  going  to  marry,  and  i 


IN  GAY  STREET  337 

found  out  —  as  far  as  a  half-hour's  talk  would 
show  it.  I  wish  you  great  happiness,  Olive  — 
and  I  believe  you  '11  get  it." 

''  Thank  you,"  and  Olive  was  gone  again,  being 
in  constant  demand,  as  the  central  figure  of  the 
occasion.  She  found  time,  however,  to  ask 
much  the  same  question  of  Arthur  Crewe  con 
cerning  Peter  Bell,  and  received  so  nearly  the 
same  sort  of  answer  that  she  laughed,  and  told 
him  of  the  similarity  in  the  two  estimates. 

"I  am  flattered,"  said  Crewe,  "for  I  don't 
know  when  I  've  met  a  young  American  I  've 
liked  better.  He  's  both  frank  and  reserved  - 
a  combination  which  appeals  to  me.  It  looks 
a  bit  as  if  you  were  going  to  have  him  in  the 
family,  I  believe  you  told  me  ?  I  sincerely  hope 
you  will  —  though,  if  you  don't  mind  my  saying 
it,  now  that  I  see  your  sister,  I  feel  as  if  I  'd  like 
to  leave  Geoffrey  here  for  the  summer,  with 
deliberate  intention.  I  fancy  it 's  too  late  for 
that,  though." 

"  I  'm  glad  you  like  Peter.  It  would  be  too 
unkind  to  the  family  to  take  more  than  one  daughter 
to  England." 

"See  how  well  Geoffrey  appreciates  his  priv 
ileges  ?"  whispered  Crewe,  indicating  his  brother, 
as  that  personable  young  man  went  by  with  Shirley, 
his  manner  suggesting  concentration  of  attention 


338  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

upon  the  subject  in  hand.  Then  he  looked  in 
Peter's  direction.  "The  chap  in  the  chair  isn't 
deserted,  is  he  ?  I  think  each  bridesmaid  has  taken 
a  turn  at  him,  and  he  seems  equal  to  them  all." 

However  this  might  have  been,  Peter  found 
himself  thoroughly  weary  at  the  end  of  the  evening^ 
and  glad  to  be  put  into  a  wheeled  chair  and  taken 
home,  ignominious  as  that  mode  of  departure 
seemed.  Arthur  Crewe  insisted  on  walking  at 
Peter's  elbow,  all  the  way  round  to  the  house  in 
Gay  Street  and  the  two  parted  with  friendly 
warmth  of  good-will  on  each  side. 

According  to  Nancy,  who  kept  Peter  informed, 
Geoffrey  Crewe  neglected  none  of  the  oppor 
tunities  afforded  him  by  his  brief  visit,  and  in 
one  way  and  another  Shirley  was  kept  busy  all 
the  next  day.  The  wedding  was  to  take  place 
in  the  evening,  so  Peter  had  plenty  of  time  to 
rest  and  reflect  on  the  advantages  an  able-bodied 
man  has  over  a  temporary  cripple,  as  he  caught 
glimpses,  from  time  to  time,  of  such  sights  as 
Shirley  driving  off  in  the  trap  with  the  younger 
Englishman,  or  sitting  beside  Brant  Hille  as  he 
took  a  portion  of  the  bridal  party  away  for  a 
spin  in  his  big  green  car. 

Olive  had  chosen  to  be  married  at  home,  so 
every  effort  at  effective  decoration  had  been 
expended  upon  the  house  and  grounds  in 


IN  GAY  STREET  339 

Worthington  Square.  For  a  hot  night  in  July, 
it  was  expected  that  the  outdoor  arrangements 
would  be  most  popular,  and  the  great  lawn, 
with  its  natural  beauties  of  landscape-garden 
ing  enhanced  by  the  devices  of  electricity  and 
Chinese  lanterns,  flowers  and  bunting,  was  like  a 
fairyland. 

"If  a  fellow's  will  amounted  to  anything, 
a  scene  like  this  would  make  him  get  on  his  legs, 
if  both  of  them  were  only  just  out  of  the  repair- 
shop!"  groaned  Peter,  as  he  was  brought  through 
the  gates  by  Rufus  at  an  early  hour.  He  took 
note  of  the  paths  winding  away  through  the  grounds, 
made  enticing  to  promenades  by  every  witchery 
of  art,  and  his  imagination  already  pictured 
Shirley,  in  her  maid-of-honour  attire,  floating 
away  down  one  of  them,  devotedly  attended  by 
Brant  Hille  or  Geoffrey  Crewe. 

"Cheer  up.  The  wounded-hero  role  is  aw 
fully  taking  with  the  girls,  you  know,'*  consoled 
Rufus,  divining  the  tantalising  effect  of  this 
stage  setting  upon  his  handicapped  brother. 

"Wounded  hero  be  shot!"  retorted  Peter. 
"It  would  be  the  most  soothing  thing  that  could 
nappen  to  him.  Would  you  like  to  change  places 
with  him,  instead  of  being  able  to  dash  about 
in  search  of  what  you  want  ?" 

r   should  n't  mind,  if  my  crippled  condition 


34°  ROUND   THE  CORNER 

seemed  to  have  the  hypnotic  effect  yours  did 
last  evening.  According  to  Nancy,  the  bride- 
elect  was  n't  in  it  with  you  at  posing  as  an  inter 
esting  figure.  She  said  the  bridesmaids  were 
four  deep  around  you." 

"  Kind-hearted  things  —  they  were  nearly  the 
finish  of  me.  When  I  become  a  society  man  please 
notify  my  family.  I  shall  not  have  the  brains, 
myself." 

"I  will.  Where  will  you  be  placed  for  the 
ceremony  ?" 

"Behind  a  screen  of  palms,  if  possible,"  re 
quested  Peter.  He  did  not  get  his  wish  literally, 
but  by  grace  of  a  special  plea  to  one  of  the 
ushers,  he  was  put  in  an  inconspicuous  place 
of  great  advantage,  where  he  could  not  only 
view  the  entire  scene,  but  could  watch  the  bridal 
party  during  its  whole  course,  from  stair-landing 
to  improvised  altar  beneath  a  vine-covered  canopy 
at  one  end  of  the  long  drawing-room. 

Olive  made  a  strikingly  beautiful  bride,  as 
her  friends  had  known  she  would,  and  her  brides 
maids  were  nearly  all  more  than  ordinarily  fair  — • 
or  seemed  so  in  their  picturesque  garb.  But  to 
Peter,  in  all  the  bridal  party  there  was  only  one 
face  and  figure  worth  more  than  a  moment'.*! 
glance.  And  when  the  maid-of-honour  finafy 
turned  away  from  the  altar  to  take  her  position 


IN  GAY  STREET  341 

by  the  side  of  the  best  man  for  the  ceremonies 
of  reception  and  congratulation  which  followed 
upon  the  conclusion  of  the  marriage  service, 
the  one  onlooker  who  could  not  get  up  and  take  his 
place  in  the  gay  company  forming  in  line  to  greet 
the  bridal  party,  was  feeling  more  than  ever  like 
a  stranded  canal-boat  in  the  company  of  a  fleet 
of  racing  yachts. 

They  came  to  him,  however,  when  they  were 
free  —  Olive  Crewe  and  her  husband,  Shirley 
and  Mr.  Geoffrey  Crewe,  several  of  the  brides 
maids,  and  even  Brant  Hille,  and  Peter  said 
all  the  things  that  were  expected  of  him,  and 
said  them  well.  He  might  be  no  "society  man," 
as  he  had  said,  but  he  possessed  the  self-command 
and  quickness  of  wit  which  take  the  place  of 
familiarity  with  such  situations.  Arthur  Crewe 
liked  him  better  than  ever  as  the  two  shook  hands, 
and  Peter  spoke  his  quiet  but  earnest  words  of 
felicitation  and  prophecy  for  the  future. 

"I  *m  sorry  I  can't  be  here  to  see  you  when 
you  get  about  again,"  said  Crewe,  at  parting. 
"I  can  quite  fancy  the  energy  and  enthusiasm 
you  put  into  your  work." 

"I  don't  need  to  see  you  at  yours  to  be  sure 
you  're  a  steam-engine  both  at  project  and  per 
formance,"  responded  Peter,  smiling. 

"We  'd  work  jolly  well  together,  I  venture  to 


342  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

say,"    said    the    Englishman.     "  Perhaps    we  Ml 
have  the  chance  some  day." 

"I  wish  we  might,"  and  Peter  gave  the  friendly 
hand  a  hearty  grip.  "Good-bye  —  good-bye. 
The  best  ofluck." 

Peter  sat  alone  upon  the  Townsend  porch, 
waiting  for  someone  to  come  and  take  him 
home.  Everything  was  over;  the  bridal  pair 
had  gone;  the  last  lingerers  along  the  lantern- 
lighted  paths  among  the  shrubbery  had  straggled 
in  and  reluctantly  taken  their  departure.  The 
big  marquee  in  the  centre  of  the  lawn,  where 
supper  had  been  served,  was  empty  except  for 
scurrying  caterer's  men.  The  string  orchestra 
stationed  in  the  summer-house  had  at  last  stopped 
playing,  mopped  their  perspiring  heads,  and 
packed  up  their  instruments.  Mrs.  Townsend 
had  betaken  herself  to  her  room  in  a  state  of 
collapse,  requiring  the  attendance  of  her  husband 
and  Jane;  and  Murray  paced  up  and  down  the 
upper  hall,  thinking  to  himself  that  he  had  never 
before  realised  what  unpleasant  things  weddings 
were  when  they  occurred  in  one's  own  family. 

As  for  Shirley,  no  one  had  laid  eyes  upon  her 
since  the  moment  when  the  Townsend  landau 
had  driven  away,  with  everybody  throwing  con 
fetti,  and  Olive,  leaning  out,  had  flung  her  bouquet 


IN  GAY  STREET  343 

straight  at  her  sister's  feet.  Everybody  had 
laughed  as  Shirley  picked  it  up,  but  the  girl  had 
run  away  with  the  white  bridal  roses  crushed 
close  against  her  breast,  her  lips  set  tight  and 
her  eyes  brilliant  with  unshed  tears.  She  and 
Olive  had  been  more  to  each  other  during  this 
last  year  than  ever  before  —  and  England,  as  a 
place  of  permanent  residence,  seemed  a  very, 
very  long  way  off. 

It  was  odd  that  at  the  last  everybody  seemed 
to  have  forgotten  Peter.  Ross,  laughing  with 
a  pretty  girl,  had  walked  directly  past  him  and 
gone  home,  unmindful.  Peter  had  supposed 
he  would  come  back,  but  he  did  not.  The  ser 
vants  were  busy,  the  quiet  of  the  deserted  porch 
restful,  and  Peter  leaned  his  head  against  one 
of  the  tall  white  pillars,  thinking  less  of  the 
evening  that  was  past  than  of  the  future  that  was 
coming  —  so  soon  as  he  could  walk  sturdily  about 
once  more. 

Up  through  the  narrowest  and  least  conspicuous 
path  of  all,  one  which  few  of  the  wedding  revelers 
had  noticed  because  its  entrance  was  designedly 
unlighted,  came  a  slim  white  figure  with  bent 
head.  Peter,  gazing  dreamily  out  over  the 
lawn,  saw  it  at  once,  and  recognised  it  with  a 
start  of  gladness. 

Shirley    came    on    across    the    velvety     grass 


344  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

without  looking  up,  and  slowly  ascended  the 
porch  steps  with  her  eyes  still  cast  down.  Reach 
ing  the  top,  she  turned  about  and  stood  leaning 
against  the  pillar,  on  the  other  side  of  which 
was  Peter's  chair,  without  noticing  his  presence, 
staring  off  at  the  rainbow-tinted  lights,  and  seeing 
a  little  misty  halo  about  each  one. 

When  she  had  stood  motionless  there  for  some 
time,  Peter  spoke,  so  quietly  that  he  hardly 
startled  her.  She  turned  about  with  a  little 
choking  breath,  said,  "Oh,  is  it  you?"  in  a  tone 
of  relief,  and  resumed  her  former  position. 

"I  wish  I  could  help  make  it  easier,"  said 
Peter,  very  gently.  "You  've  made  things  easier 
for  me  so  many  times,  first  and  last." 

"You  do,"  said  Shirley,  in  a  half-whisper. 

"Do  I?     I'm  glad.     But  how5" 

"Just  by  being  there." 

Peter's  face  lighted  up.  This  was  a  most 
unusual  tribute  from  his  independent  little  friend. 
He  got  slowly  to  his  crutches,  and  with  a  greater 
effort  than  he  had  yet  made,  came  stumping 
round  to  her  side  of  the  pillar,  and  stood  near 
her,  leaning  against  a  great  green  tub  which  held 
a  towering  palm.  He  felt  somehow  as  if  he  must 
be  literally  upon  his  feet  in  order  to  stand  by  her 
in  this  crisis. 

Both    were    silent    again    for    some    minutes, 


IN   GAY  STREET  345 

until  suddenly  Shirley  looked  round  at  him, 
and  exclaimed,  ''Why,  I  mustn't  let  you  stand 
like  this!  Please  sit  down  again." 

"Not  unless  you  do." 

"Why?     I'm  not  tired." 

"  But  I  want  to  be  near  you.  I  *ve  done  nothing 
all  the  evening  but  envy  the  men  who  could  get 
about  and  do  things  for  you." 

"You  '11  soon  be  walking  off  at  your  usual 
breakneck  pace,"  said  Shirley,  the  colour  coming 
back  with  a  rush  into  cheeks  which  had  been 
pale  since  Olive  went. 

"To  the  office — yes  —  your  office.  I  can 
hardly  wait.  But  I  wonder  sometimes  if  I  can 
keep  my  wits  and  do  my  work  there." 

"Why  not?" 

"  Don't  you  know  why  ?" 

Shirley's  little  moist  ball  of  a  handkerchief 
was  all  at  once  being  clutched  very  tight  in  her 
fingers.  She  shook  her  head. 

"I  think  you  do.  I  think  you  must  know  why 
I  'm  half  out  of  my  head  with  the  prospect  of  being 
manager  of  the  new  house  of  Townsend  &  Son." 

"I  'm  glad  that  you  like  the  prospect,"  said 
Shirley,  in  the  lowest  of  voices,  and  looking 
anywhere  but  at  Peter* 

"Are  you?     Do  you  like  it?" 

"Very  much." 


346  ROUND  THE  CORNER 

Peter  forgot  his  crutches,  and  one  of  them 
fell  with  a  rattle  at  Shirley's  feet.  She  would 
have  bent  to  pick  it  up,  but  he  prevented  her, 
and  laboriously  reached  for  it  himself. 

"  I  'm  not  going,"  said  Peter,  deliberately, 
"to  let  you  wait  on  me,  when  all  in  life  I  want 
is  the  chance  to  serve  you  —  all  my  life." 

"It  would  be  a  very  poor  partnership,"  said 
Shirley,  in  a  half-whisper,  after  a  minute  —  and 
Peter's  heart  stopped  beating  —  "  if  the  serving 
were  all  on  one  side"  -  and  Peter's  heart  went 
thumping  on  again,  though  not  in  proper  rhythm. 

"Partnership!   Is   it   a   partnership,   Shirley?*" 

She  nodded.  But  she  moved  three  steps  out 
of  reach.  Peter  made  a  hasty  movement,  and 
both  crutches  slipped  down  to  the  floor  with 
a  crash,  and  slid  away  off  the  edge  of  the  porch 
to  the  ground.  Peter  glared  after  them.  Then  he 
looked  at  Shirley,  standing  there,  rose-cheeked, 
her  tear-wet  eyes  now  full  of  laughter. 

"Oh,  please  get  them  for  me,  dear!"  he  pleaded* 
"Or  —  no  —  never  mind  the  crutches!    Just« 
some  here!" 


LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  752  800     3 


